Christmas Magic, Right?
by BrainySmurf6
Summary: Series of Christmas oneshots. Updated regularly between now and Christmas. All genres and time periods. Mostly Booth/Bren, but other characters and friendships will appear. Requests taken! Enjoy and review!
1. It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Christmas Magic, right? **

_A/N: Seasons greetings, readers. Ha. So I'm developing a couple multi-chapter things to follow up B&T, but school's picking up momentum with the end of the semester, so I'll probably hold off before really delving into a lengthy story._

_That said…I'm a sucker for Christmas. And Bones is awesome right now. And I'm having major writing withdrawal. So my current project is going to be this. A series of Christmas-centric one shots surrounding Booth and Brennan and sometimes the rest of the gang. The genre is going to vary…some fluff, some angst (not surprising, I'm sure, for those who have read me before)and lots of general Christmas magic. Most of it will probably end up being B/B, but I'll probably throw in some H/A and some general friendship or character centric oneshots as well. Timeline will also vary…some will be canon, based on the two Christmas eps we have, some will speculate the "lost Christmases" of seasons two and four, and some will be completely fabricated or future fics. The length will also vary._

_Oh, and each installment will be semi-based on a different Christmas song. They aren't song fics; I just always listen to music when I'm write, and which one I listen to will probably influence the mood and, occasionally, plot of the chapter. _

_Enough of my rambling. Enjoy this first installment, set in Season four. One (of probably many) takes on the Christmas season we never saw. B/B_

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

_It's the most wonderful time of the year._

_There'll be much mistletoeing_

_and hearts will be glowing,_

_when loved ones are near._

_It's the most wonderful time of the year._

This year, it sneaks up on her.

The months have been slipping by faster than usual. It's just that there's always something going on. In October they put an all time high number of murderers behind bars, and Brennan goes trick-or-treating with Booth and Parker (she isn't sure who's more excited). In November they nearly top Octobers number, she finishes her latest manuscript, and she invites Booth to Thanksgiving dinner with her father and Russ' family.

Then, literally overnight, the lab became adorned with the usual seasonal decorations; lights and garland and little Santa Clauses and snowmen. Brennan wasn't sure who exactly put up the original decorations, but when she arrived at the lab Angela was practically skipping around the lab, wearing her elf hat (although, thankfully, not the entire ensemble), and adding her own flair to the decorations.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" Brennan commented as she breezed past Angela into her office.

"Christmas is in three weeks, Sweetie," Angela replied cheerfully as she followed Brennan, hanging a wreath on the door of her office. "Time to get into the spirit around here."

"Fine," Brennan murmured distractedly, pulling off her coat, straightening some papers on her desk, and not paying much attention to what Angela was doing.

Then, just as Brennan straightened up and started to head out onto the platform, she froze. "What's that?"

Angela threw a smirk over her shoulder; she had dragged a chair to the doorway and was standing on it, hanging something in the doorway. "Mistletoe."

It was automatic, the way the heat rushed to her face, and instantly she was back to last Christmas, Booth's lips and hers and spearmint gum and losing count of steamboats. She shook the memory away, and retorted brusquely, "Take it down."

Taken aback by the vehemence in her friends tone, Angela turned, her eyebrows raised. "What? It's festive."

"This is a…a professional environment, Angela," Brennan replied, trying to will away the blush she could _feel_ on her cheeks.

Angela smirked again. "What? Worried about getting caught under it with a certain FBI agent?"

If possible, the heat on her cheeks intensified. "No," she answered far too quickly. "I'm very rarely loitering in my doorway, Ange. There isn't a high probability of getting 'caught' under it. I just find it…inappropriate."

Angela, though, seemed to have noticed she'd hit a nerve. Her expression shrewd, she stepped down off the chair and came closer. "You're _awfully_ touchy on the subject, Bren. If you're so sure there's no chance of…_using_ the mistletoe, why can't you just think of it as decorative?"

Their argument was cut short when Booth walked into the office. "Morning, Bones. Ange. The place looks great." The two women turned to look at him, Angela's expression almost devious and Brennan's definitely uncomfortable. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Brennan answered immediately. "Ange was just leaving."

Rolling her eyes, Angela slid by Booth. "I'll see you two kids later." She paused in the doorway, eyeing them slyly. Then she seized Booth's arm and pulled him toward the doorway. "Why don't you stand here, G-man?"

Booth watched her leave, completely bewildered, then began looking in all directions, though thankfully not up. Giving up, he shrugged. "What's with her?"

"No idea," Brennan answered as nonchalantly as she could manage. "We have a case?"

"Yeah, body found in an garbage dumpster downtown." He sighed, "Merry Christmas, right?"

Nodding, Brennan grabbed her kit and her coat. When she got to the doorway, Booth, always the gentleman, moved slightly out of the way to let her through. Brennan felt herself stopping, looking at him, suddenly very, very aware of the ridiculous plant hanging above them.

Confused, Booth met her eyes. "Everything okay, Bones?"

Flushing (again), Brennan nodded, her eyes drifting to his lips before she could stop herself. After a moment, she snapped out of it, extracting herself from the doorway. "Let's go."

~(B*B)~

They never talked about it.

She didn't mind. It was how she preferred things, really. It was not denial, or avoidance, the way someone like Sweets might suggest; it was simple, rational compartmentalization. Like Booth had said, it was just mistletoe. A means to an end; something he hadn't even wanted to do in the first place. There was no reason they should talk about it.

But that didn't mean she never thought about it. She did, on occasion...or, more accurately, nearly every day.

It wasn't that Brennan _wanted_ to think about it. It wasn't a conscious decision. Objectively, the kiss had been comparatively brief(even if it was _a whole flotilla_), and she had had much more erotic encounters with other men to fixate on.

But there were so many times that Booth would give her a _look, _his warm brown eyes softening as a he smiled at her, or would lean close enough for her to feel his warmth, smell his cologne…and, inevitably, her mind would drift back to the day in her office.

So, yeah. It didn't mean she never thought about it.

~(B*B)~

They solved the case three days later, arresting the murderer after a solid confession. Booth stayed in her office as they worked through the paperwork.

"Big plans for Christmas this year, Bones?" He grinned at her, teasingly. "Let me guess…Yemen? No, no…Ecuador? Peru?"

Brennan smiled. "No trip this year. I'm having Christmas with my father and Russ' family, at my dad's place." She hesitated, then offered, "You're welcome to join us. Parker, too, if he's with you."

"I get Parker for the first half of the day this year, but I could definitely be up for Christmas dinner. Thanks, Bones." He smiled warmly at her.

Brennan's heart swelled slightly, her eyes locking with his, and she wondered when their lives had become so entwined. Every holiday of at least the past year, every birthday…it had all involved Booth. And she _wanted_ it that way.

He really was part of her family. Probably, if she was being honest, the most important part. Because unlike her father and Russ, Booth had never left her.

Brennan's eyes darted, unwillingly, to the mistletoe at her doorway. For just a moment, she let herself entertain foolish, illogical thoughts, imagining ways she could get in the doorway at the same time as Booth…

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as Booth signed a form with a flourish, stacking his papers and standing up. "Finished?"

Slightly flustered, Brennan nodded. "You want to get dinner?"

"I've got to pick Parker up for the weekend…I promised him we'd pick out a tree tonight." Booth's eyes lit up, suddenly. "Come with us!"

"Oh, that's alright," she replied awkwardly. "I don't want to intrude."

Booth rolled his eyes as if the very idea was ludicrous. "You're _never_ intruding, Bones, are ya kidding me? Parker loves you, and you always include me in your family stuff."

"You're certain you don't mind?"

"Bones." Booth's eyes softened affectionately . "Of course not. You're family, y'know? Christmas is for family."

Inordinately pleased, Brennan smiled at him. "Thank you."

He nodded his head at the door. "C'mon."

Still smiling, Brennan trailed after him, trying to resist another glance up at the mistletoe that was hanging in her door, mocking them.

~(B*B)~

Parker was thrilled to find out she was joining them on their expedition for a Christmas tree. He spent the ride extolling the virtues of the "gigantic" tree lot, and how they were going to find the biggest tree there.

It had been snowing on and off for the past week, and the lot (which was, admittedly, impressive in size) was covered in an impressive blanket of snow. They spent a good fifteen minutes by the car, getting Parker bundled in the appropriate winter layers, before letting him take off. Parker went running through the array of Christmas trees, calling, "Daddy! Bones, c'mon! We gotta go to the _reeeaaally_ big ones!"

Booth grinned at Brennan, resting a hand automatically on the small of her back as they headed forward at a much more leisurely pace. Booth drew a long breath. "Breathe it in, Bones. Nothing I like more than the smell of Christmas trees."

"It is rather pleasing, I must admit. It evokes pleasant memories." Off Booth's look, she explained, "When I was a child, my dad went all in for Christmas."

"All out, Bones," Booth corrected affectionately.

"He insisted on picking out a tree the day after Thanksgiving. I used to lay on the carpet, almost under the tree, while he strung the lights." She shrugged, looking a little self conscious. "I liked the smell."

Booth gave her a surprised, delighted smile. He moved his hand up, until his arm was around her shoulders. "That sounds nice." What he was thinking, though, was that Max's previous enthusiasm with Christmas probably made it that much harder when they disappeared around that time. It helped explain the strength of Brennan's previous antipathy toward the holiday.

"Daddy, Bones! Come _on_." Parker called impatiently, before ducking behind a tree.

Laughingly, Booth grabbed Brennan's gloved hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world and tugged her gently after him, up the sloped hill toward the taller trees. "We better hurry."

Forty-five minutes later, Parker and Booth seemed to finally agree on a tree that was the correct height, width and fullness. They had examined dozens of trees, from every angle, before choosing, and Brennan had to assure both of them several times that the tree was "awesome."

After they tracked down one of the employs , who tagged the tree and promised to cut it down momentarily, they returned to the bottom of the hill to wait.

Booth was telling her about his elaborate plans to decorate his apartment when there was a thud against his neck, a sudden onslaught of icy slush dripping down his collar. He whirled to see his son, grinning wickedly.

"Oh, you asked for it pal," Booth said with a grin, bending down and quickly constructing his own snowball, which he hurled at his giggling son, who shrieked in delight when the snowball exploded against his thick jacket.

Smiling, Booth began to run after Parker, who attempted to run while making a snowball. Brennan turned to watch, smiling, a rush of affection filling her, the way it always did when she watched her partner interact with his son.

Parker was slinging snowballs at his father, and snow sprinkled through Booth's hair. He bent down, gathering his own snowball, which he threw at Parker, who ducked out of the way.

Taunting breathlessly, Parker yelled again, "Missed me, missed me, now ya gotta kiss me!"

Booth stopped running, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?" Then he took off, causing Parker to yelp as he gently tackled his son into the bed of snow, falling so his body cushioned Parker's fall. Tickling the boys ribs, Booth leaned in and blew a raspberry against his neck.

"Da-_ddy_!!!" Parker yelled in protest, amid his seemingly uncontrollable giggles. Booth let go with one hand, scooping up a pile of powdered snow and sprinkled it over Parkers already damp blonde hair. Parker laughed harder, yelling, "Bones! Help me!"

Blinking confusedly for a second, Brennan caught Booth's eyes, which were sparkling playfully. He winked, and Brennan grinned. She bent down and scooped up a pile of snow, shaping it into a hard, compact sphere and, concentrating, sent it flying at Booth.

The ball exploded against Booth's neck, and he fell back dramatically, releasing Parker as he did so. With a whoop of delight, Parker stood and ran toward Brennan. "Let's get him, Bones!"

Obligingly, Brennan made another snowball as Parker did the same thing, and both of them hurled their ammunition at Booth just as he stood up.

"No fair!" Booth mock-whined. "Two against one."

"Deal with it, Daddy!" Parker replied with a laugh.

Adopting a combative expression, Brennan repeated, "Yeah, Booth. Deal with it."

His eyes, flashing, met hers, a devious smirk on his face. He bent down snooping snow toward him, as Parker ducked behind a parked car and began furiously making snowballs.

With his son out of sight, Booth turned his attention temporarily to his partner. He reared back to throw a carefully aimed snowball, but before he could, another one of hers hit him square in the face.

Booth screwed his eyes shut, slush dripping down his cheeks. With as much dignity as he could manage, he wiped the bulk of the snow away, then looked at his partner, who looked much too pleased with herself.

He smirked. "You'll pay for that Bones." Then he was running toward her, the snowball he'd been ready to launch still clutched in his gloved hand. Brennan was unarmed, and she instantly began scooping snow toward her.

When he was about five feet away, he let the snowball loose, and Brennan, kneeled on the ground, rolled away. Booth, who had been running fast, made an unsuccessful attempt to pull up short, and he ended up slipping on the snow, going down hard next to Brennan.

Who was laughing at him, a victorious look on her face. Strands of her hair, wet and clinging to her forehead, had slipped free of her grey toboggan, which was slightly askew on her head. Her cheeks were pink with the cold, and looking at her, Booth couldn't hold back a smile.

She flicked the snow that had gathered on her gloves in the direction of his face, but Booth reached his hand up to block the slush. Shuffling closer to her, Booth spoke in a low voice, his face close enough so she could feel the warmth of his breath over her chilled skin. "Missed me…missed me…"

_Now you gotta kiss me._

Brennan swallowed hard, the unspoken part of the childish chant hanging between them.

There was no mistletoe. No spearmint gum. No puckish lawyer, counting steamboats. Just the two of them, lying in the snow, the smell of Christmas trees wafting over them.

Booth's eyes moved slightly, staring at her lips, and though it made no logical sense, Brennan knew he was thinking the same thing.

He leaned closer…

And a snowball collided with his cheek.

Startled, they glanced up and found Parker standing over them, grinning. "Gotcha."

Booth's face, which had been unreadable for a split second (disappointment? Brennan couldn't tell), suddenly split into a grin. "I guess you did…" Then he seized Parker around the waist and brought him crashing between him in the snow.

"Um…Mr. Booth?" A voice called from about ten feet away. "Your tree's ready."

"Yesss!" Parker cheered, as Booth stood, extending a hand to Brennan as soon as he was on his feet.

"Great." Booth rubbed his hands together, his cheeks red. "Wanna come help us decorate, Bones?"

"We always make hot chocolate, too!" Parker informed her.

Still slightly dazed, Brennan nodded. "Sure." She met Booth's eyes, and he half-smiled, his expression almost apologetic.

As Booth walked off to pay the man, Parker slipped a damp, gloved hand into Brennan's. "I think we won that, didn't we, Bones?"

Brennan smiled, and agreed, but privately she wasn't so sure.

~(B*B)~

She spent Friday evening with Booth and Parker, decorating the tree and the rest of the apartment. Their enthusiasm for the holiday was infectious, and soon Brennan was singing along with the two of them to various Christmas carols.

She and Booth spent the whole evening sneaking glances at each other, their eyes meeting every once in awhile. When that happened, they exchanged quick, almost shy smiles then glanced away again. Brennan was also blushing much more than usual, it seemed. As she went through the multiple boxes of decorations, she was halfway expecting (or hoping) to find a fake sprig of mistletoe like the one hanging in her office.

She never did.

She left late that night, almost reluctantly. There was a fire crackling in the living room, the lights on the tree twinkling, and the pleasant aroma of evergreen filling the room. When she finally got home, Brennan's own apartment felt cold and unwelcoming in comparison.

She didn't see Booth again until Monday, when he walked into her office to let her know about a body, potentially a suicide but the FBI needed her to identify and confirm. Everything was normal between them, and it was as if the moment in the snow on Friday hadn't happened. In fact, Brennan was starting to wonder whether she had misinterpreted his intentions.

Sighing inwardly, Brennan mentally berated herself for the thought. They would never know what would have occurred if Parker hadn't interrupted them; there was no sense in dwelling on it.

She began gathering her kit, and pulling on her coat. She glanced at Booth a few times; he had been lingering in the doorway since he'd gotten there, never coming all the way in to her office, and it made her feel rushed.

Yet, in spite of this apparent impatience, when she started to leave the office, Booth didn't move out of the way. He just stood there, sliding slightly.

Brennan raised her eyebrows. "What are you waiting for, Booth? I'm ready."

His cheeks reddened inexplicably, and Booth muttered something inaudible before turning and leading the way out of her office.

Only when she was a few steps out the door herself, after giving the mistletoe the customary unconscious glance, did Brennan realize why he'd been lingering.

Oh.

_Oh_.

She was instantly torn, between anger at herself for failing to notice and respond and pleasure that he'd finally noticed, and had actually been trying to orchestrate the very situation she'd been imagining more often than she wanted to admit.

That _had _been what he was doing, right?

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she followed Booth out of the lab.

Maybe he, too, thought about last Christmas sometimes, even if it wasn't something they talked about.

~(B*B)~

Several days before Christmas, her father called. He wanted to add some more decorations to his place before hosting Christmas dinner, and wanted to know if she'd be willing to help that night.

Brennan hesitated. Something about helping her father decorate for Christmas made her inexplicably sad, even though all the memories surrounding this activity during her childhood were admittedly happy ones.

She started to refuse, to tell him Christmas decorating wasn't really her thing, but then she had to question the honesty in that. She'd been extremely happy at Booths a couple weeks before, decorating with him and Parker.

After the silence had gone on for too long, Max added, "Booth's welcome to help out as well."

Brennan smiled, suddenly, at the image of her partner and her dad decorating together. She had never seen two grown men get so excited over a holiday, and she was sure the combination of the two of them would be an extremely enthusiastic one.

"Alright. We'll come."

"Great! Feel free to stay for dinner. I make excellent lasagna…vegetarian for you, honey. And you and Booth bring any extra decorations you have, alright?"

As she agreed, Brennan's eyes flitted instinctually to the mistletoe.

Which is why, moments later, Angela came running up when she saw Brennan on a chair in her doorway, attempting to unhook the sprig.

"Sweetie, _no_." Angela admonished. "There are still a couple of days until we're out of here…there's still time for this to be put into use." Her best friend grinned suggestively.

"I wasn't going to throw it away, Ange," Brennan informed her. "My father is in need of more decorations for Christmas dinner. I was going to…take it with me."

Predictably, Angela pounced on that immediately. "The same Christmas dinner you invited Booth to?"

Trying to keep the embarrassment out of her voice, Brennan replied coolly, "Unless you're suggesting my father is holding more than one Christmas dinner, than yes, it's the same one."

Angela smiled knowingly. "Leave that one up. I have a couple extra."

~(B*B)~

Her father's doorbell rang at five thirty exactly, and Brennan nearly leaped up from the couch to go answer it.

Booth was standing on the other side of the door. He was wearing a red sweater with a collared shirt underneath, and carrying a bag of presents and (what else?) a pie. He smiled broadly at her. "Merry Christmas, Bones." He looked her up and down, something that annoyed her when other men did it but always made her feel strangely pleased when it was Booth. "You look great."

"You, too." She took the pies from him. "We can put your gifts in the guest room for now with everyone else's."

"Sounds good." They walked through the living room, Booth exchanging Merry Christmases with the rest of her family while Brennan passed the pies off to her father.

She waited for him in the doorway of the guest room while he laid his coat and the gifts on the bed. Brennan was hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt.

Still, she was irrationally disappointed when he just smiled at her, and motioned her to precede him through the doorway, never glancing up.

It was a fantastic Christmas, her best in years. Booth and Max got along amazingly well considering the fact that Booth had once arrested him, and even Russ seemed more comfortable around the agent as the evening progressed.

Dinner was delicious, and they all remained at the table, talking and laughing and exchanging stories until Haley and Emma began to get impatient to open gifts.

Though Booth had unnecessarily bought gifts for Max , Russ and Amy, and even the girls, he was almost covert in passing her the small box.

And, yes, her eyes had welled with tears when she saw the silver dolphin charm, dangling on a thin necklace.

"I know it's not really the type of jewelry you usually wear," Booth said almost apologetically. "But I just thought-" Then she was hugging him, hard, both of them on their knees on the carpet of the living room, and Brennan didn't even care that everyone was watching (and hiding smiles) how long she hung on. "Thank you, Booth."

She was hesitant about her own gift, especially after that necklace, but as soon as he ripped through the paper she knew she'd done alright. Booth stared down at it, almost at a loss for words.

Russ glanced over and commented, "Oh those things are _nice_. We used to have one, I think, but it broke…"

Booth raised his head to meet her eyes, his own dark with emotion, a world of unspoken words passing between them. To Russ and the rest of them, a foot massager with infared heat capabilities wasn't much more than a luxury, a novelty gift. But Brennan was one of the few people who understood the source behind her partners constant aches and chills to his feet, who knew why he might consider this a godsend.

He moved closer, covering her hand with his on the carpet and, glancing at the others, who were paying attention to Haley ripping into a gift, hugged her again, his lips close to her ear as he murmured roughly, "Thanks, Bones. Really"

Her throat suddenly tight, Brennan could only nod.

~(B*B)~

Booth stayed late, even later than Russ and Amy, who had to get the girls to bed. Brennan sat next to him on the couch, her father across from them in his recliner, and she realized the not once during the evening had she felt that inexplicable sense of loss.

Eventually, though, Booth said his goodbyes and thank you's to Max. Brennan followed him back to the guest room to gather his coat, not offering an explanation.

This time, when Booth pulled his coat on, he didn't sweep right by her. Instead, he moved to stand in front of her, smiling softly. "I loved my gift, Bones."

Her hand went automatically to the dolphin necklace she'd already hooked around her neck. "So do I. So much."

He shuffled a bit closer. "Thanks for inviting me tonight. It's usually such a letdown when Parker leaves, even when I get him all morning…I liked feeling like part of your family."

Brennan paused, then ventured honestly, "You _are_ part of my family. The biggest part."

Booth grinned widely, and Brennan returned it. After a long moment, she couldn't resist anymore; her gaze slid up and Booth followed it.

"Mistletoe," he commented unnecessarily. He grinned. "Angela hang that one, too?"

For a moment, Brennan was confused as to why he thought Angela had been here; a second later she realized he was kidding. "No. She did provide it, though. "

He nodded, his eyes holding hers. Brennan's heart rate was undeniably elevated; she recognized this look from the day at the tree lot. His gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth. Brennan forgot to breathe.

Then he leaned forward, catching her lips in his. She responded immediately, one hand grabbing at his jacket, pulling him a little closer, the other wrapping around the nape of his neck. Booth rested a palm in the usual place on her lower back, but his other drifted up into more unfamiliar territory, threading gently through her hair. The kiss was soft and slow, initially, gradually growing in intensity.

Brennan didn't know exactly how long it lasted, but it was definitely a couple of steamboat flotillas. When they pulled apart, somehow simultaneously, their gazes remained locked on each other.

Booth smiled. Smoothed back an errant strand of her hair. "Merry Christmas, Bones."

~(B*B)~

They never talked about it.

She didn't mind. There were other things that demanded her mental energy. There were cases to work, and that Agent Perotta (whom she just did _not_ care for for some reason) to keep an eye on, then the return of the Gravedigger and still more cases.

But that didn't mean she never thought about it. She did, on occasion...or, more accurately, several times a day.

And sometimes, she could swear, in those moments where he gave her that _look_ that Brennan was realizing was just hers, or when he leaned so close and she wanted him there…Brennan could swear Booth was thinking about it, too.

Because that was two Christmases in a row they had kissed under mistletoe. And Brennan wondered (hoped) if two years was enough to call it a tradition.

**A/N** _Whoa, fluff alert. Kind of OOC for me. We'll see how many oneshots it takes before I slip into angst. I'll be updating this as regularly as I can between now and Christmas. I already have a couple of ideas._

_Any request/suggestions you have, whether it's just a song you want a chapter based around or a specific prompt or situation/character you want to see…just __**PM**__ me. Can't promise to grant all requests, but I'll do my best, as long as the Muse agrees. I'd love to hear your ideas!_

_Oh, and as always, __**reviews**__ are the best gift I could receive. Besides my very own Seeley Booth, of course. _


	2. All I Want for Christmas is You

**A/N (please read!)**: Thank you guys for the amazing response to the first one shot of the series! I'm glad you're all enjoying it. As many of you know, fluff is not my usual thing, but after a couple requests, I did everything I could to hold off on the angst for another chapter. My muse kinda doesn't know what's going on. I'm pretty Ch. 3 is going to be where I finally revert to my old ways (temporarily) of course, but for now, I give you this.

Most of these one shots have no bearing on each other, but this one, which takes place in Christmas of the current season (not at all influenced by the plot of the actual upcoming ep, which I'm ridiculously excited about), references the first chapter. In other words, it takes place in the same universe where Booth and Brennan now pretty much kiss under mistletoe at Christmas. Every year.

Since I can feel a couple of angst (or, as I now call it, romangst) shots coming, I decided to make this one fun. It is basically everything I love about Bones: team interaction, humor, drama, a little Hodgins/Angela and a LOT of Booth/Brennan. Oh, and I threw in some holiday spirit, formal attire, and alcohol.

All I Want for Christmas is You

_I don't want a lot for Christmas  
There's just one thing I need  
I don't care about the presents  
Underneath the Christmas tree  
I just want you for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true  
All I want for Christmas is...  
You_

This year, inexplicably, the Jeffersonian annual company Christmas party goes formal.

Booth makes a crack that the annual gathering of scientists in 'whatever Star Wars shirt they were wearing under their lab coats that day' was just getting too depressing.

As usual, it is Angela who convinces them all to go. It isn't difficult, really. One puppy dog look from his former fiancée is all it takes for Hodgins, looking heartbreakingly hopeful, to agree (there have been moments recently, since her break up with Wendell that have suggest something between the two of them again, though Angela isn't sure what she feels about it). Sweets, never having experienced the event before, is just thrilled to be invited. As boss, Cam is practically required to go anyway.

Though Brennan takes a _bit_ more coercing, Angela has gotten skilled at talking her best friend into social situations over the years (though, admittedly, it's become a much less arduous task recently). And once Brennan agrees, then mentions oh-so-casually that she'll let Booth know, Angela knows her work is done.

They meet in the lab and walk down to the party together, as a team. As the forensic investigators of the Jeffersonian, they are basically the cool kids, the permanent "kings of the lab" as Hodgins gleefully explains to Booth (who finds the notion hilarious but, frankly, accurate when you compare to the departments like Egyptology or Authentications).

The guys have on tuxes, rented (Booth and Sweets) and owned (Hodgins, of course), and are looking sharp. It's the women, though, who get the stares when the six of them walk into the Planetarium, where the party's being held (Booth thought that sounded a little geeky, but it turns out to be…well, pretty).

It's not exactly a secret that they have a pretty smokin' hot team, but the women have outdone themselves. All three are in knee length dresses (black for Cam, emerald green for Angela, and red for Brennan) that definitely show off their, ah… less professional assets. Cam's hair is twirled in an updo, half of Angela's pulled back, and Brennan's is all down, curled expertly into loose waves around her shoulders.

As the less than subtle stares continue, Hodgins nudges Booth and they exchange a look of mutual understanding. Then, simultaneously, they move forward. Hodgins falls into step next to Angela (fighting an old habit of wrapping an arm around her possessively), while Booth does the same to Brennan, smiling easily down at her as he rests his hand on the soft, bare skin on her back. This leaves Sweets standing awkwardly, directly behind Cam, wondering if he missed some sort of signal.

Brennan and Booth soon fall behind the others, and Booth watches as Brennan scrutinizes the room. "This seems like an inordinate amount of extravagance for an office party."

Booth grins teasingly at her, "Where's your Christmas spirit, Bones? It'll be fun."

This provokes an immediate eye roll. Booth had been the one complaining about the upcoming "squint party", although (Brennan had noted with undeniable pleasure) he hadn't hesitated at all in agreeing to come.

Brennan's eyes fall on her best friend, already dragging Hodgins, Sweets and Cam over to the eggnog. Smiling, she comments, "I suppose there is one advantage to the formal atmosphere."

"What's that?"

"Angela had to forgo her elf costume."

Booth grins at her, "True. I half expected Sweets to show up with his elf hat on."

Frowning, Brennan replies, "I didn't. It's impractical. Christmas paraphernalia doesn't exactly go with a tuxedo."

At that, Booth lets out a bark of laughter. "That elf hat doesn't exactly go with _anything_. Unless you're working in a department store."

"I agree."

Booth smiles again, and as Brennan resumes her anthropological observations of the crowd, he allows his eyes to rove slowly over his partner's body for the fifth (or fifteenth) time that evening. That red dress (sparking, briefly, memories of Tony and Roxie and Las Vegas), maddeningly tight in all the right places, her hair, the loose curls looking somehow both casual and sophisticated, her all too visible porcelain skin, those damn _eyes_…

He wants to tell her she looks beautiful; he already said she looked great, of course, when he first picked her up (because, they'd both reasoned, he would pass her place on the way and it made no sense for them both drive), but he'd said that to all of them.

Instead, what he says is, "You want a drink?"

Brennan snaps out of her observations, and turns to him, her eyes sparkling (is it cocky to acknowledge that only _he_ makes them do that?). "Sure."

They navigate the crowd together, making their way over to the table. Predictably, Angela has claimed the table closest to the drink supply, and Brennan joins the rest of them as Booth gets drinks.

Sweets and Hodgins are sitting in chairs around the round table, but Angela and Cam are standing, hovering just behind two chairs where they discarded their wraps. Brennan starts to pull out a chair, but Angela stops her immediately, "Oh, no, Sweetie, not you, too. We're standing long enough to get a sufficient amount of alcohol in our system. Then we are going to _dance." _She whirls on Hodgins and Sweets to fix them with a stern look. "That goes for you two."

Hodgins grins a little, not looking at all displeased (in fact, the bug man looks almost smug), but Sweets is definitely nervous.

Booth returns then, giving Brennan a sweet smile as he hands her a cup of eggnog; she smiles back when they (as always) clink the plastic cups together. "Thanks, Booth."

Sweets and Cam meet each other's gaze, smiling conspiratorially, but Angela merely rolls her eyes at the partners. "That's sweet, Booth. Notice I didn't see anyone rushing to get _me_ a drink."

"We would have, babe," Hodgins quips. "But you were in such a hurry you beat everyone to it."

Angela arches an eyebrow at him at the use of the endearment, and Hodgins, rather than write it off to a reflex as usual, flushes a little, his eyes flitting away as an awkwardness that has been mercifully absence for a few weeks settles.

Silence hovering, they all drink. Within moments, Booth plucks the empty cup out of Brennan's hand and heads off with hers and his own. "Be right back."

Angela smirks at her best friend, and, as Cam and Sweets loudly begin making conversation, says in an undertone, "That must be nice."

"I don't know what you're referring to."

"Your date over there," Angela nods slightly at the man in question.

"Booth and I are not on a date," Brennan protests automatically. "This is a work function."

"Except that Booth doesn't work at the Jeffersonian. And he picked you up. And walked in with you. And he's getting you drinks."

Before Brennan can scoff at these ridiculously benign examples, Booth reappears, deftly holding three cups of eggnog, one of which he hands smugly to Angela, prompting Brennan to shoot her a covert _you see?_ sort of look, which Angela ignores.

Angela downs about half the cup in one gulp before turning her attention to the dance floor. "Alright, let 's do this…" She eyes her choices carefully. Jack…but no, he's far too sober, as he's still wearing that hopeful expression that honestly breaks her heart a little. Booth…but his eyes haven't left Brennan the entire evening, and she has other plans for his dance partner anyway.

Her mind made up, she grabs Sweets by the hand and pulls him up. "Dance." It's not a request, but a command, and the kid, suddenly bright red, manages to look pleased and terrified all at once.

There's the briefest flicker of disappointment on Jack's face, but then it's gone and he turns to Cam, nodding toward the dance floor with a grin and an exaggerated shrug. Cam rolls her eyes, finishing her own eggnog before answering, "Since you asked _so_ nicely…"

They, too, disappear in the crowd, leaving Booth and Brennan alone.

Booth gives her a charm smile. "When in Rome, right?"

Frowning, Brennan responds, "I don't know what that means."

Booth smiles, but inwardly berates himself for sounding so stupid. He starts over, doing it right. "Never mind. You want to dance?"

Hesitating, Brennan her already empty second cup. "Maybe a little later? I generally need to do the round at these sort of functions-"

Biting back a smile, Booth corrects her, "You mean 'make the rounds', Bones."

"Yes, well, in any case, I'd like to do so before my cognitive processes become too impaired."

For a moment, Booth's confused, but then his eyes light up. "Bones, is that your squinty way of telling me you plan on getting _drunk_?"

"No, of course not…" She flushes slightly. "But this can be…stronger than anticipated and I just want to be certain. Angela sometimes has a knack for making me…well, in the past-"

"It's fine, Bones," Booth interrupts, letting her off the hook. "Let's work the room."

She doesn't know what that means, exactly, but context clues and basic reasoning allow Brennan to ascertain the meaning. "You don't have to come with me, Booth. I know it's somewhat dull conversation…"

"Nah, Bones, it's fine. I'm with you tonight." Then, grinning wolfishly, he adds, "Though I may want to get some, ah, anticipatory refills to get through the squint talk. Be right back." He wanders off, and Brennan is left pondering his words.

_I'm with you tonight._

Angela is wrong, of course. It isn't a date. But it is true that, an outside observer, not familiar with all the variables, might be justified in assuming….especially considering what Booth had just said.

Her cheeks are red when he returns with her drinks, and she'd like to blame the sudden warmth on the alcohol. However, from the way the heat intensifies when Booth smiles at her and returns his hand to the place on her back, Brennan has to admit there may be another explanation.

~(B*B)~

Booth follows her dutifully around the room, talking to scientists in suits, being introduced and trying not to appear bored. He catches more than one of her colleagues eyeing Brennan's dress with not so subtle appreciation, but it seems his _I'm FBI and I can squash squints like the bugs and gook they study_ look does the trick, as anyone on the receiving end of it manages to spend the rest of the conversation focusing on a post above Brennan's head.

However, when the conversations become too dull for him to pay attention, Booth allows himself the luxury of a quick look of admiration. Or two.

They end up back around toward the table, meeting Angela pouring herself another drink, Sweets nowhere in sight. Her eyes are bright and she's smiling widely as she grabs Brennan's arm. "There you are Sweetie! I didn't know where you went." Before she can answer, Angela turns her attention (and her grip) to Booth. "G-man! Come dance. Your turn."

Brennan ignores a stab of disappointment, until she hears Booth answer, "Can't right now, Ange. Bones promised me the first dance, and I just endured a good twenty minutes of science talk to get to it."

At this, Angela smiles delightedly, as though this is the response she'd hoped for the whole time. "Ooh, good. That's much better. You two have fun." She eyes the dance floor critically, and Booth and Brennan follow her gaze, seeing that Cam is now dancing with a somewhat awkward Sweets, while Hodgins is with a pretty blonde that Brennan thinks is an intern in some department or another. Scowling slightly, Angela declares, "I'll just go steal Jack away from whoever _that_ is…"

Booth shakes his head slightly as she disappears, already unsteady on her feet. He absently grabs a cup for Brennan and hands it over. "Here you go, Bones. Before we dance."

She eyes him, almost suspicious. "Where's yours?"

"I gotta take it easy. Designated driver, apparently."

Frowning, Brennan sets the cup back on the table. "I should probably do the same."

"Aw, come on, Bones," Booth mock whined. "I want to see your…what was it? Cognitive processes become impaired." He smirks a little. "I can't even imagine."

Brennan's eyes flash. "You believe I'm constantly inhibited, don't you?"

Booth suppresses a smile; only Brennan could see a challenge in a teasing statement like that. Innocently, he replies, "I only said I was interested in seeing your cognitive processes impaired."

Her eyes never leaving his, Brennan quickly downs the eggnog (noting that the ratio of eggnog to liquor is definitely tilting in favor of liquor as the evening progresses) and smiles almost coyly. "Let's dance."

There's a fast song playing, something about rocking around a Christmas tree (she doesn't know what that means), and the tempo is slightly awkward at first, but then she forgets because Booth's hand is in hers, his other arm comfortably around her waist, pulling her close.

The songs, Christmas carols, obviously, are hard to dance to at first, so Booth lets himself act a little goofy (this also serves as a distraction from how much of her body he can see, not mention feel against his own), improvising spins and twirls and other inane moves. It makes Brennan laugh, one of his favorite sounds in the world, and then they're both laughing uncontrollably, messing around, oblivious to the couples around them (including the very interested pairs of their coworkers, all of whom are watching them with knowing smirks).

After a few faster numbers, though, the track changes, and a slow version of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" comes on. Slightly breathless from the last few dances, Booth smiles softly at Brennan before moving in closer, his mouth positioned near her ear.

They sway silently for the first minute or so of the song, and Booth feels like every nerve in his body is tingling. He's hyper aware of the warmth of her skin under his hands, the vanilla scent of her hair accosting his senses.

The dance floor's nearly dark now, the only source of light the small, golden lights surrounding the perimeter of the room. The dark makes him brave, because he's murmuring in a low voice, "You look beautiful tonight, Bones."

Brennan's face warms instantly, and she moves a little closer, her head resting on his shoulder. She breathes in the familiar scent of his cologne, comforting and exciting all at once. "Thank you, Booth," she replies finally, her eyes drifting closed, and she finds herself irrationally willing away the end of the song.

It comes, of course, and they take their time moving apart, smiling at each other. An upbeat number begins, and they've barely moved back into the 'fast dance' position when Brennan feels a tap on her shoulder.

"Sorry, Sweetie." Angela says, grinning hugely. "I'm cutting in." She wags a finger at Booth. "My turn G-man."

Brennan frowns slightly, not sure what to make of this apparent social convention of relinquishing her dance partner. Booth shrugs at her, and Brennan turns to find herself facing Hodgins.

He holds out a hand, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry, Dr. B."

Understanding his gesture but not his words, Brennan obligingly moves to dance with Jack. "Sorry for what exactly?"

Hodgins just grins. "Never mind."

~(B*B)~

For the next forty-five minutes, they dance. Brennan dances with Hodgins and Sweets several times, but somehow always ends up back with Booth for the majority of the numbers, and literally every slow dance. She isn't sure how it works out that way, but she doesn't care to analyze…whenever there's a brief break between songs, Angela's been dragging her and Cam over to the eggnog, and Brennan has a not unwelcome fog beginning to settle.

Angela, though, is pretty far gone. When the six of them head to their table to rest, sweaty and breathless but also vaguely giddy, Angela seizes Brennan's arm, suddenly looking panicked. "Bren. Bren. _Bren_. There aren't any photo copy machine thingies around here are there?"

Brennan sighs, exasperated. "No, Ange. We're not in an office. No photocopiers."

Looking immensely relieved, Angela nods. "Oh. Good."

They start walking again, now a few paces behind the others. Her tone suggestive, Angela says, "You and Booth looked like you were having fun…"

"He's an excellent dancer," Brennan answers instantly.

"He's been cheeeecking yooou ooooutt," Angela says in a sing song voice. "He thinks you look hoooot. And you liiiike him."

Brennan scoffs, "You're drunk."

"Very true," Angela agrees. "But I'm still right."

"Even so…it's just his biological response, provoked by the, um, skampy outfit."

Angela bursts out laughing. "Skimpy, Bren. Your outfit is _skimpy_."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Hodgins comments with a grin; they've reached the table. "I thought my suit was so tasteful."

Brennan sits automatically next to Booth. He leans close, grinning, "You having fun Bones?"

Nodding emphatically, she smiles back. "Are you?"

"A blast."

"Doesn't Brennan look hot, Booth?" Angela interjects loudly.

Brennan freezes, shooting Angela the best death glare she can manage, but Booth just gives her an easy smile. "Of course…Bones looks beautiful."

And though he's already said that once tonight, Brennan blushes all over again, forgetting to be angry at Angela, who picks up on the moment and asks loudly, "And Booth looks good, too, huh, Sweetie?"

"Ange…" Hodgins says in a low voice.

Brennan sighs, "Yes. I've always said he's very well structured."

Looking to ease the tension, Booth bumps his shoulder against his partner's. "Thanks, Bones."

Brennan glances at Sweets, who isn't trying to disguise the fact he's staring. In a stage whisper, she leans close to Booth, "Look, he's taking notes with his eyes."

Booth's eyebrows shoot up. "Bones, were you just being figurative? Because that would be unprecedented."

For some reason, Brennan thinks this is one of the funniest things she's heard in a long time.

It's hard to keep the smile of his face, watching his partner. Booth nudges her again, "How're the old cognitive processes doing, Bones?"

"Surprisingly well. In fact I'd estimated I'm still operating at a higher mental capacity than you are."

There's a momentary silence, then Booth laughs, and the others feel free to join in. "I think you could say that to all of us, Dr. Brennan," Cam jokes.

"You're probably correct," Brennan agrees, and Booth snorts. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he notices Angela's got that cunning look on her face again, and before another argument can arise, he takes his partners hand and pulls her up.

"C'mon, Bones, I'm missing the dance floor."

"Okay," she agrees easily, following him back to the moving crowd.

After a few numbers, the others join in again, and soon they're switching partners much like before.

~(B*B)~

Angela finds herself dancing with Sweets during a slow number and, over his shoulder, she studies her best friend and Booth, slow dancing about ten feet away. There's almost no space between them. Brennan's head is nestled against his chest, Booth's face bent, almost burrowing in her hair. Both of them have their eyes closed.

Angela rolls her eyes. It's really ridiculous. She knows Booth loves Brennan. And she _knows_ Brennan loves Booth; she's her best friend, she can tell these things. Booth _may_ realize by now, but Brennan…she was still swimming around in the river of denial.

Angela wants to help. She really does; Brennan deserves happiness, finally, and Booth is the one to give it to her. Angela's certain.

But how can she make her best friend realize it?

Evidence. Bren likes evidence.

How do you get evidence?

Experiment.

~(B*B)~

Brennan's dancing with Sweets when it happens.

Angela had cut in on her and Booth two songs ago. They'd been dancing in a slightly erratic pattern, moving closer and closer to the edge of the crowd. Foolishly, Brennan had been attempting to subtlety guide Sweets into following them, ready to do her own cutting in.

She isn't trying to watch. But she sees it anyway. When Booth and Angela are almost at the edge of the crowd, Angela nudges him. Smiles, and points up. Booth looks and, ten feet away, so does Brennan.

Mistletoe.

Then Angela's kissing him.

And it's hard to tell, because she's suddenly dizzy, but she thinks Booth is kissing back.

Brennan steps back from Sweets like she's been electrocuted, and the psychologist looks startled for a moment before following her gaze, his jaw dropping cartoonishly. "Whoa."

They break apart, and Booth looks dazed, while Angela turns just in time to see Brennan turning and pushing through the crowd.

Brennan thinks she might be having a panic attack. She's definitely not breathing properly, and the planetarium suddenly seems suffocating and hot.

Brennan's in the lobby, sucking air into her lungs, wondering why her hands won't stop shaking.

After a few moments Angela is beside her. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"Go away."

"It was just mistletoe," Angela says, arching an eyebrow.

"I mean it, Angela, go," Brennan says tersely, not looking at her.

"But, Bren, you gotta listen. I did it for you."

"Obviously," Brennan mutters. She is drunker then she thought; she only uses sarcasm when she's drunk.

"No, no, really. No." Angela is most definitely drunk. "I did, I was experimenting. You got jealous, didn't you? If he's really just your partner, if you don't feel anything for him, you wouldn't care! That's evidence, I was just getting you evidence."

Brennan closes her eyes, willing the pounding in her head to stop. This isn't fun anymore; she wants to go home. It had been a good evening, a great one, even, but suddenly the music is too loud and the lights are too bright and she is so very angry.

Angela continues prattling on about her experiment. "You have to answer the question, Bren! Pretend it's a hypothesis! Why are you upset about me kissing Booth?"

She has past the point of self censorship, and only after she half-yells, "Because Booth and I are supposed to kiss under mistletoe at Christmas! We always do!" does it occur to her that she probably meant to keep that a secret.

Angela's mouth falls open. "_What_ now? _When?_!"

Suddenly Brennan can't stand the sight of her best friend. She thinks of Angela's voice two months ago. _Why are we even friends?_ That had hurt, a _lot_, and though they had made up Angela had never apologized…

Brennan wants, now, to throw the words back in her face, but instead she just turns away and says tightly. "Just leave me alone, Angela."

To Brennan's utter humiliation, there are tears gathering in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

Yes, she is most definitely drunker than she thought.

Angela moves around to force Brennan to face her, and the look on her best friend's face is like a twist in the gut. Brennan looks heartbroken, betrayed, and her eyes are welling with tears. It's enough to make Angela feel almost sober.

"Sweetie…are you crying?"

Brennan sniffles. Swipes underneath her eyes and says defiantly, "No."

"Bren_nan_. I swear, it didn't mean anything I only wanted you to see that you cared when someone else…Bren, don't be mad at me."

Luckily, Brennan is spared the almost certainly forthcoming tirade brought on by Angela's apologetic, tearful stage of drunkenness (Brennan had basically memorized Angela's various alcohol induced personas in college). Unfortunately, she is spared it because Booth comes out into the lobby, following closely by Cam, Sweets and Hodgins, all of whom apparently witnessed the little incident.

Booth walks right up to her. "Bones, are you okay?"

"Get away," she tells him feebly, apparently the only demand her impaired cognitive processes can churn out at the moment.

Ignoring it, Booth moves closer, studying her, noticing the tear tracks on her cheeks. His face softens. "Bones, what is it…?" He touches her chin, trying to force her to look at him, but Brennan immediately jerks away.

"Don't touch me," she demands childishly. Her eyes meet Sweets', who is, like the others, staring, wide-eyed. "And _you_ stop staring." She is feeling inexplicably tearful again, and angry because of it. She fixates her gaze on a spot on the floor, staring and blinking hard.

Hodgins suddenly steps forward. "Dr. B I can give you a ride home, if you want. I'm pretty much partied out."

Brennan glances up at him, and nods gratefully.

Booth, instantly protective, asks roughly, "You sure you're alright to drive? You were drinking."

When he answers, Hodgins looks not at Booth, but an Angela, his bright blue eyes uncharacteristically hard. "Believe me, I'm sober now."

The two of them leave the building abruptly, leaving Angela and Booth staring after them.

~(B*B)~

Brennan keeps her mouth shut most of the ride back to her apartment, partially to keep herself from spilling her guts to Hodgins and partially because she's starting to feel a little sick.

When he pulls up at her building, Jack shoots Brennan a concerned look. "You sure you're alright, Brennan?"

"I'll be fine," she replies, thinking she's talking louder than strictly necessary. "I'm just tired, suddenly. I'm…suddenly tired." She shakes her head. "Thank you for the ride, Hodgins."

"No problem," he answers, hesitating slightly, then saying, "Look, Dr. B…what Ange did…she wasn't thinking. She always gets a little stupid and impulsive when she's drinking…well, you knew that already." He clears his throat. "And I don't think Booth knew what was happening."

Adopting as dignified a tone as she can, Brennan states, "Thanks you, but, as I said, it's fine. It doesn't matter. Good night."

Dropping the subject, Hodgins waves at her. "Have a good Christmas."

"Oh. Right. You, too."

She walks slowly up the stairs to her apartment, feeling slightly unsteady on her feet. Brennan mentally scolds herself for the alcohol-fueled scene she made back there, and has barely made a vow to forget the whole thing when she enters her own apartment and suddenly wants to cry again.

This year's Christmas plan is much like last years, except for that Booth has Parker the second half of Christmas morning, so the boy is supposed to be joining them, and the fact that her father had asked Brennan to host dinner at her place. As a result, her apartment is decorated like it hasn't been in years (thanks, as Booth insists, to his own expertise). There are lights and garland and little snowmen everyone, a tree decked out in lights and ornaments, and a large array of presents underneath.

And, of course ,there is mistletoe hanging over the doorway to the guest room.

Angrily, Brennan walks swiftly over, standing on a chair (it makes her dizzy), and yanking down the plant, throwing it into the garbage.

Then, fighting tears, she changes out of her dress, but doesn't bother to remove her makeup and wash out the hairspray before flopping onto her bed in an undignified manner and promptly passing out.

~(B*B)~

There's knocking on Booth's door at ten in the morning, and he opens it to reveal a very hungover Angela, her hair in a messy ponytail, sunglasses on in spite of the cloudy day.

He's holding the phone in his hand, having just completed his sixteenth unsuccessful attempt to call Brennan.

"Oh," he grumbles. "It's you."

"Merry Christmas Eve to you, too, Booth," Angela shoots back grouchily.

"Have you talked to Bones?" he asks instantly.

Angela shakes her head ruefully, grimacing. "No. She's my last stop today. I figured it'd be easier to start with you."

"With what exactly?"

"An apology." She follows him into the apartment. "I don't know why I did that. I mean, I do know…there are parts of the whole plan that are a little hazy, but I think I wanted to experiment…to see if she got upset."

Booth throws her a look that seems to suggest she's certifiably insane. "Well, if that was what you wanted, you succeeded. _Masterfully_. She's so upset she won't answer my calls."

Angela look chagrined. "I didn't mean….I didn't think she'd get _hurt_ upset. I just thought she'd get jealous. I wanted to prove to her…I don't know…" Her cheeks redden. "It's so stupid now, but I think it seemed kind of genius at the time."

Booth rolls his eyes, then sighs tiredly. "It's okay. You were pretty far gone. It was stupid, obviously, but I don't really understand what the big deal is."

It was Angela's turn to roll her eyes. "You _really_ don't?"

He thinks of the past two Christmas seasons, both of which have, at some point, found him standing under mistletoe, his lips on Bones'.

He has to admit, he's been hoping to make it three in a row. For the past three weeks, he's been looking for mistletoe everywhere. But there'd been none in the lab, not even her office again. He doesn't mind, though; there's still Christmas dinner.

Or at least there _was_.

Mistaking his faraway expression as some sort of confusion, Angela attempts to explain, "Say you saw her under the mistletoe with Hodgins." Booth grimaces slightly at the image, distaste evident on his expression. "See?"

Booth sighs. "Look, are you going to see Bones?"

"Yes. You should, too, but give me a an hour or two to get there first."

Booth nods a little despondently. "Alright."

~(B*B)~

Hodgins raises an eyebrow when he opens the door to find his very hungover ex standing there.

"It seems I'm on a sort of apology tour," Angela tells him.

He steps aside to let her in. "Why am I a stop on it?"

Facing him, Angela shrugs, taking off her sunglasses. "I don't know, exactly. But that look you gave you me makes me feel like I need to apologize."

Hodgins shrugs, his expression maddeningly blank. "I just wasn't overly impressed with that fact that you did something obviously intended to hurt your best friend."

"I know. I mean, I know I did that, even though it _wasn't_ my intention to hurt Bren. It was a whole…drunken thought process. I just thought I could help them. They _love_ each other, Jack."

"You have to let them get there on their own, Angie," he says patiently; this is something he's had to remind her countless times over the year. "They're getting there. They are."

"Yeah, after almost _five years_. I thought they'd be together by now, definitely."

Jack's eyes darken and lock in with hers. "Yeah, well…sometimes things don't work out the way you think they're going to."

Silence hovers for a moment, then Angela ventures quietly, "Are you sure there wasn't…another reason you were angry last night?" She bites her lip and looks at him searchingly.

Uncomfortable, Hodgins pretends to be fascinated with a painting on his wall. He feels like an idiot, really, which is ridiculous considering Angela's antics last night. But they haven't been…_anything_ in almost two years. She isn't his fiancée anymore; she's not even his girlfriend.

And, yes, he'd allowed himself an ill advised bout of anger when he'd found out she was dating Wendell, but come _on_. The guy's his friend (_Am I really supposed to keep tabs on every guy you go drinking with? _Angela had asked).

But he'd thought (hoped) that maybe it was a good sign when Angela broke up with the intern so soon after Jack got angry at her. Especially since lately they been…having moments, as Zack would say.

And last night…well, he'd been looking forward to last night. Because she's said she really wanted him to come. And it was in Christmas, which they had loved.

She's still staring at him, so he has to say something. "I just thought…I don't know…I didn't think last night was going to end with you kissing _Booth_."

Her face softens, and Jack knows she understands much more than he's saying; that's how they work.

"I know you did," she intones softly. "It's just…when I broke up with Wendell, it _was_ partially because of you. Not because you got mad, but because…he was great. He was sweet and funny and _hot_. But I didn't feel like I did when _we_ were together, even just starting out. It's like you've become my point of comparison, and…what I'm afraid of it that it's never going to be that good again."

Hodgins is trying, really, but he can't keep the grin off his face. "There's an easy solution, Ange.

She smiles, but then turns serious, eye brimming with sadness. "But what if…what if we missed that, Jack? What if we can't get it back?"

Hodgins' pulse quickens; he can sense this is an important, make or break sort of moment. He needs to say the right thing. Swallowing, he manages a grin. "I never lost it, babe."

She breaks into a smile, just like he'd hoped. They stand there, smiling at each other, then Angela's fades a little. "Listen, I have to go see Bren. But…" she pauses. "Maybe after that I could come back and we could talk?"

Hodgins nods, a little dazedly; he can barely believe this has come out of the disaster of the previous evening. "Definitely." He glances behind him, where he can barely see into the expansive living room, sparsely decorated, the tree bare except for lights. "Maybe we could break out those decorations we made."

Her smile widens. "Definitely."

~(B*B)~

Brennan wakes up at ten that morning (_ten_!) and remembers instantly why she doesn't drink in excess.

Her head is pounding. She's still vaguely nauseous. And she's angry…at just about everyone.

She's angry at Angela, for kissing Booth. At Booth, for (probably) kissing back. At Hodgins, for noticing she was upset enough to leave. At Sweets, for watching them. Cam for…well, just for being there, probably watching. And at herself, for caring.

Through the course of the morning, she nearly calls her father ten times to cancel Christmas plans. Because if he comes, he'll ask why Booth isn't there (Booth is just going to have to figure out he's uninvited for himself). But, then, if she cancels, he'll ask why.

Brennan's not a good liar.

There's a knock on her door around twelve. Assuming it's Booth, she ignores it for about two minutes.

Then the key turns in the lock and Angela steps into the living room.

Slightly startled, Brennan, sitting on the couch, looks up. "You're breaking and entering," she states instantly.

"No breaking, Sweetie. I have a spare key. So I'm really just…entering." Without waiting for a sign of welcoming from her best friend, Angela sits in a chair across from Brennan.

Gritting her teeth, Brennan quells the desire to demand Angela get out. She isn't supposed to care about something so trivial. It doesn't affect her at all.

Angela waits for a few moments, expecting Brennan to either throw her out or launch into some sort of rant about why she doesn't care. When neither is forthcoming, Angela says softly, "I'm sorry."

Tone icy, Brennan replies flatly, "For what?"

"You know what, Bren. I'm sorry I kissed him. It was nothing, and it was stupid, and I wasn't thinking. I was drunk."

Brennan won't meet her eyes. "I was also slightly inebriated, and clearly my response was irrational and unheeded. You have nothing to apologize for."

_That_ was expected. Sighing, Angela asks, "Then why won't you look at me?"

Very deliberately, Brennan swings her gaze so it's trained on Angela's face. "I'm fine."

Deciding instantly that arguing will only slow things down, Angela presses on, "Even so. I shouldn't have done it. You know how I get when I…overdo the alcohol. I had a ridiculous idea and…I just shouldn't have done it."

Brennan shrugs nonchalantly, "I don't see why not. You're at liberty to kiss anyone you want. And often do." Angela winces slightly at the dig, conscious or not, as Brennan adds, "Why should Booth be any different?"

Angela's face softens, instantly. "Because, Sweetie…Booth is _yours._"

At that, Brennan's head snaps up. "I assure you, Angela, I don't claim any sort of possession of Booth."

Her mouth quirking up slightly, Angela replies, "Still. Whether you claim it or not…he is. Just like you're his." Brennan's mouth flies open, but Angela cuts her off, "Not in any sort of anti-feminist, ownership type way. You just…" She shrugs. "It's hard to explain. But you are. And I got in the way. So I'm sorry." Grimacing, Angela adds pleadingly, "Drunk Angela really thought she was helping. You're my best friend, Bren, and I would never hurt you on purpose."

To her surprise, Brennan doesn't deny being hurt again. Instead, she looks contemplative for a long moment, then tentatively asks, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Sweetie."

Hating how foolish she sounds, Brennan says in a rush, "Did he kiss back?"

Angela thinks, briefly, about lying, but then admits, "I don't remember. A lot of last night is kind of…lacking in detail." Brennan's face falls in disappointment, and Angela adds quickly, "I doubt he did, though. I'm pretty sure I just shocked the poor guy."

"Well, it makes no difference anyway," Brennan says hastily.

"Of course not," Angela mocks (knowing, of course, that Brennan won't recognize the mocking).

They are quiet for a minute or so, then Angela's face lights up. "Oh. One thing we still have to address. You and Booth have _kissed_?"

Initially, Brennan looks slightly shocked, then she remembers (vaguely) revealing this last night. "_That_ you remember."

Angela grins. "Of course. Not even Drunk Angela would forget that, Bren. And if I were in any position to be angry, I'd be so damn pissed I'm just hearing about this now. When was it? Last Christmas?"

Brennan nods slowly, then admits, "…and the year before." Cutting Angela off mid-squeal, she adds, "It was just mistletoe. It didn't mean anything…like yours."

"Sweetie, no way could _you_ kissing Booth be the same as _me _kissing Booth. Especially not two years in a row."

"It was nothing."

"Oh, I think it was something." Smiling, Angela stands up. "Bren, I'm going to take off, because Booth's coming to talk to you. Don't be mad at him, alright? Before I ruined everyone's night, you two were adorable and having fun, and honestly, he couldn't take his eyes off you."

There's too much she should protest in that statement alone, and before Brennan can decide Angela's hugging her, saying, "Merry Christmas, Sweetie," and on her way out the door.

~(B*B)~

When Booth, somewhat nervously, knocks on Brennan's door, he has no idea what to say. He's just hoping she'll answer.

She does, to his relief, her expression impassive.

"Hi, Bones."

"Booth." She turns, walking to the living room, an invitation for him to follow. "Angela said you were coming by."

"Yeah, well, you know…" He sits next to her on the couch, trying to relax as usual. "I had a really good time last night, Bones. A great time. With you. Before what happened. And I'm really sorry that you got upset, but I swear-"

"I wasn't upset," she corrects immediately, repeating her earlier response, "I was slightly inebriated due to the eggnog, and my response was irrational and unheeded. You have nothing to apologize for."

Booth manages a grin, scooting closer on the couch and bumping his shoulder against hers. "So it did affect the cognitive processes?"

"A little," she admits, unable to fight a tiny smile. Brennan shifts awkwardly on the couch.

"Well, either way…I swear, Bones, I didn't know Angela was going to do that…"

"It doesn't matter," she states briskly. She remembers Angela's words and categorically informs him, "I don't claim any sort of possession over you. If you want to kiss Angela under mistletoe-" she ignores the way the phrase makes her cringe inwardly, "-you're perfectly at liberty to do so."

Booth's eyes widen. "I didn't want to kiss Angela. As a matter of fact, I _didn't_ kiss Angela. She practically attacked me, but I didn't exactly…respond. I didn't want to." He smiles a little. "Between you and me, Ange and Cam are great and all but…I didn't even want to dance with them."

Ignoring the pleasure swelling in her chest, Brennan asks, "Why not?"

Booth leans closer to her. "Because I was having too much fun with you, Bones. I didn't need anyone else, alright? Just you."

Now she can't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "Alright. Thank you." She pauses, hesitating. "I felt the same way. I wasn't fond of the whole concept of cutting in."

He laughs. "Me neither, Bones." Drawing a breath, Booth takes a risk and says, "Besides, kissing under mistletoe at Christmas…that's _our_ thing."

For a moment, Brennan can't breathe; it's the first time either of them have acknowledged that, out loud. Attempting to pretend it's the first time she's realized the pattern, she says, "Oh. I suppose it is."

His voice suddenly an octave lower, Booth tells her, "And I really like it being our thing."

"So do I," she whispers back honestly.

"And I wouldn't do anything to mess that up." He's getting even closer.

"I know." Her response is barely a breath.

There's no mistletoe, but Booth suddenly doesn't care, because, "I wanted to do this all last night." His eyes drift shut and he captures her lips in hers, kissing her, first soft and then slightly more fervently.

They eventually break apart, and he murmurs against her mouth, "Merry Christmas, Bones" before pulling away.

One day, she'll get up the nerve to ask him _Why do we only kiss at Christmas?_

And maybe he'll stammer and evade before saying honestly _Because if we did it any more often I wouldn't be able to stop at kissing._

And then, perhaps, she'll look him in the eyes, challenging, and ask simply, _So?_

But right now, it's Christmas_. _And Booth is hers.

For now, that's enough.

.

.

_**A/N: **__Okay. So this one kind of got away from me, length wise. Because Angela got drunk, and I wasn't originally planning her antics but…it's what happened. I think I was influenced by watching the Season one Christmas ep…Ange seemed really enthusiastic about the Jeffersonian party. Anyway, this one was really fun to write. So I hope you enjoyed. Because the next one (and, most likely, the next few) is going to be sad._

_Keep the reviews (and requests) coming. Most of the songs you guys mentioned are already planned chapter titles…you're reading my mind!_


	3. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, going through the official pre-finals hell week at school; lots of papers, and lots of studying. Thanks to everyone to the amazing responses! I'm so glad you enjoyed last chapter; it was so fun to write. As I mentioned, the angst arrives right about now. For those of you who have been enjoying the fluff…don't worry. It will return. I may be a more angst-driven writer, but it's _Christmas_. So fluff will return next chapter.

That being said, I can promise right now that this one is as angsty as it's going to get. So if this one's a little too sad for you, don't give up on me. It will only go up from here. It's also shorter, so I won't torture for too long.

This is a future fic, and all relevant information will become apparent. The title is named after probably my favorite Christmas song, and is based on this .com/watch?v=nwX62HL2vKo version, by Tori Amos. It was the one used in the (heartbreaking) season one Christmas ep, and it is _so_ very sad. I recommend opening a tab and listening to it while you read. On repeat. Seriously.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas 

_have yourself a merry little Christmas  
let your heart be light  
from now on our troubles will be out of sight …_

_through the years we all will be together  
if the fates allow  
hang a shining star upon the highest bough  
and, have yourself a merry little Christmas, now_

For years, Temperance Brennan had pretended Christmas didn't exist.

The holiday had always served as a constant reminder of what she no longer had, an opportunity to reiterate the fact that she, unlike most people, had no family.

So she pretended. She worked through the holiday, or went on a trip to get away from it; she didn't buy gifts or decorate or do anything else that would acknowledge Christmas.

It was just easier.

This year, their (_her_) house is heavily decorated. There is a sizable Christmas tree by the fireplace, adorned with twinkling white lights and an excess of ornaments. There's garland lining the banisters, there are wreaths on the doorways and fake candles in the windows. There are snow globes and Santa Clauses and snow men. She is hosting a large gathering for Christmas Eve _and_ Christmas Day.

None of these things are because she wants to. Or because she's feeling even a flickering of Christmas spirit.

It's all because of Josie; because Brennan missed Christmas with her last year.

"Mommy, Mommy!" The little girl sprints into the room. She is flushed with excitement, wearing her brand new outfit (a red "silky" shirt with a Santa Clause on it and black pants), her hair in a braid with red ribbons tied in a bow at the end. "Is it time for them to get here yet?"

"Not quite yet, Jo," Brennan says patiently. She points at the clock. "When the big hand is on the twelve, remember?"

Josie nods seriously. "Okay. And what hand is it going to be on when Santa comes?"

Brennan shrugs, "Santa can't come until you get in bed and go to sleep, remember?" She used to have her doubts about using the Santa myth as a bribe, but after her first Christmas with Booth and Parker, which feels like a lifetime ago, she'd begun to see the merit. After all, it made the children happy.

"Right!" Josie agrees, smiling.

"Do you have everyone's presents ready for them, Jo?"

Her warm brown eyes lighting up, the little girl disappears again, the tiny, golden bells sewn around the top of her red and green striped socks jingling as she runs toward her bedroom.

Josie is four years old; she is excited about Christmas trees, and making gifts, and Santa Clause. She deserves Christmas, even though everything about it makes Brennan's heart ache.

Josie returns soon, with a stack of small gifts clumsily wrapped in green paper with reindeer all over it, as well as a CD she hands to her mother, begging, "Can we play the hulu hoop song, _please_?"

Soon, the chipmunks are singing Christmas carols, Josie accompanying them loudly as she rearranges her gifts in a pile under the tree.

The doorbell rings, and Josie instantly abandons her rearranging to run and open it. "Grandpa!"

Setting his large bag of gifts on the ground, Max pulls his granddaughter into his arms, making eye contact with his daughter over Josie's head. "How are my two favorite girls?"

"Santa comes tonight," Josie informs him happily.

Max feigns a look of surprise. "Does he? You think I'm on the nice list?"

Giggling, Josie shakes her head, "Nope."

"No?!" Tickling his granddaughter in the ribs until she runs, shrieking, away, Max approaches his daughter, brushing his lips lightly against her forehead. "Merry Christmas, baby. How you doing?"

Even a year later, Max's eyes when they look her are perpetually concerned. Looking away from them, Brennan unconsciously twists the ring on her finger as she murmurs, "I'm fine, Dad."

The doorbell rings again, and Josie reappears to answer it. "Aunt Angela! Uncle Jack! Merry Christmas."

Hodgins grins, shifting the pile of presents in his arms to look at her."Merry Christmas to you, too, Bug."

Angela hugs Josie warmly, if somewhat awkwardly around the bulge of her pregnant stomach. Josie tilts her head up to look at Angela, "How long until the baby comes again?"

"Not too much longer now," Angela answers with a smile.

"Will Santa bring gifts for the baby?"

Hodgins chuckles. "Not til she comes out of Aunt Angela's tummy, Bug."

As Brennan comes over to greet them, Josie shrugs, then informs Jack, "Santa's bringing _me_ presents."

"I know he is. You going to help me find Rudolph's nose like we did last year?"

"Yeah!" Josie replies enthusiastically. "Mommy, last year I found Rudolph's nose in the sky. He was flying the sleigh!"

"Wow," Brennan replies, trying to ignore the stab of guilt in her gut. Josie had spent last Christmas with Angela and Hodgins, and the entire week building up to it, while Brennan shut herself away, under the pretense of "needing time to process", when what she'd meant was "time to fall apart, alone."

Soon, the house is filling up. Josie runs around playing hostess, chatting with "Uncle Lance" and "Aunt Cam" (and, by extension, Daisy and Michelle), and then, when they arrive, Uncle Russ and Aunt Amy and her older cousins.

Brennan hangs back in the kitchen, needlessly. The dining room table is covered with an array of appetizer type foods, and most everyone in the house has a plate in their hands as they chat.

She watches her daughter, reveling in the ever widening smile on her face, taking some comfort in the fact that the illusion she's been struggling to maintain is succeeding.

Angela finds her after awhile, one hand resting unconsciously on her stomach as she enters the kitchen slowly, leaning against the counter next to her best friend. Her voice low, she asks, without preamble, "How are you _really_?"

"I'm…just…" Brennan bites her lip, her throat tightening, a warning of threatening tears. "I'm just ready for it to be over."

"I know," Angela murmurs sympathetically.

"Booth, he – he loved Christmas, and I just can't-"

Rubbing her friend's arm soothingly, Angela repeats, "I know, Bren."

She has spent December with a gnawing, constant ache in her chest. Every Christmas carol wafting through the air in a restaurant or department store, every Santa Clause on the sidewalk, every time she entered her own house and was immediately accosted with the smell of evergreen…all of it makes her feel like her heart was being cleaved in two.

But Josie, like her father, seems to have developed a love for the holiday. So Brennan has smiled until it hurts, hung decorations while fighting tears, and shopped for gifts with a heavy heart.

Because last year, she hadn't been able to face it. Her daughter, so young and innocent, not understanding why she'd been told that her Daddy wasn't coming home, had still expected a Christmas, and Brennan just _couldn't_ give it to her.

"You're doing a good thing for Josie, Sweetie," Angela tells Brennan gently. "Look how happy she is."

In the living room, Josie is bounding around, Christmas cookies clutched in hand, probably pointing out to the adults which ones she' d decorated. Brennan smiles slightly, but it doesn't reach her eyes. It rarely does anymore.

The scene in the living room looks like Christmas should. Friends and family and children, smiling and laughing, soft music and good food, gorgeous decorations.

But all Brennan can think is how it's all _wrong_.

~(B*B)~

_Last year. December fifth. _

_ Booth's got a radio plugged in on the kitchen counter while he stands in front of the oven, carefully laying out round, precut pieces of cookie dough on a silver pan. He's singing, badly, to "Here Comes Santa Clause". There's a Santa Clause hat on his head._

_ Josie stands on a chair next to him, wearing the blue miniature lab coat she rarely takes off lately. She hears Brennan's entrance before Booth does, and announces proudly, "Mommy, we make Christmas cookies!"_

_ Eyebrows disappearing under her hairline, Brennan repeats, "Christmas cookies?"_

_ Booth throws her a grin. "They have Christmas trees on them."_

_ "Well I hope you aren't letting her eat the cookie dough. It contains raw eggs, which can result in a number of food poisonings."_

_ Booth adopts an innocent expression. "No cookie dough." Then, he winks at their daughter, and Josie giggles manically. _

_ Brennan hides a smile. "Isn't it a little early for Christmas cookies?"_

_ "It's after Thanksgiving, Bones. Fair game. Right, Josie-pie?"_

_ She grins, delighted. "Right!"_

_ "Besides," Booth grins slyly. "I already bought your Christmas present."_

_ At this word, Josie tilts her head. "Presents?"_

_ "Not til Santa comes, Josie-pie."_

_ "I know," she insists. Turning to Brennan, Josie lifts her arms, "Mommy, help me down."_

_ "Please," Brennan corrects automatically as she picks her daughter up before returning her to the ground. "Where you going, Jo?"_

_ "Get my Santa hat like Daddy's. Be right back."_

_ They laugh as Josie scampers off. _

_ Booth turns to face his wife, grinning. "So are you impressed? I'm _baking_."_

_ "Not particularly," Brennan answers. "It doesn't require much skill."_

_ He adopts an affronted look. "How dare you? I have mad skills."_

_ Frowning, Brennan says, "I don't know what that means."_

_ He brushes his lips against hers. "Of course you don't, Bones."_

_ The tinkling sound of a piano floats through the radio speakers, a deep male voce singing for them to have a merry little Christmas. _

_ Booth resumes his singing, shaking green and red sprinkles over a few of the cookies. Brennan watches him, smiling fondly, until he catches her looking and grins. "Dance with me, Bones."_

_ He's turned and taken her hand before Brennan laughingly protests, "_Booth_…" The holidays make her husband exceptionally giddy._

_ He's humming in her ear and swaying when Josie comes running back in the room. "Me next!"_

_ As Brennan obligingly relinquishes her position and Josie raises her arms to her father, Booth's phone rings. _

_ "One sec, sweetie," Booth tells his daughter, grabbing for the cell phone on the opposite counter. _

_ Brennan holds Josie up over the counter, letting the little girl shake sprinkles onto the cookies, one eye on her husband. His face has become serious, and he absently pulls the Santa hat off with one hand._

_ "Thanks." Booth hangs up the phone and meets her eyes. "A neighbor spotted the husband returning to the house."_

_ Brennan's eyes widen and she gently returns her daughter to the floor. "Are we going?"_

_ Booth nods, already moving, "Gonna try to take him by surprise before the a-s-s takes off again. I'll call you." _

_ Eyes flashing, Brennan protests automatically, "I want to come."_

_ Car keys in his hand, Booth replies, "We can't wait for someone to get here to watch Josie, Bones. Can't take the risk he'll take off again." At her unrelenting look, Booth says, placating, "When we bring him in I'll call, okay? You can meet me at the Hoover for the interrogation. Sweets is probably there, he'll watch her."_

_ She sighs, annoyed. "Fine."_

_ Booth grins at her before lifting Josie into his arms. "I gotta go to work for a little while, baby. But I'll see you later."_

_ Josie's lower lip juts out. "What about the cookies?"_

_ Placing a kiss quickly against his daughters hair, Booth assures her, "I bet Mommy will help you finish."_

_ Instantly satisfied, Josie nods and squirms until Booth returns her to the floor. He leans over and kisses his wife softly. "Love you."_

_ Brennan kisses him back, but rolls her eyes slightly to show she's still displeased with the arrangement. "Love you, too. Call me as-"_

_ "-soon as we have him. I know." Touching the top of his daughter's Santa hat, Booth says quickly, "Love you, Josie-pie.", before leaving the kitchen._

_ "Mommy, need more sprinkles."_

_ An hour later, she's called Booth three times with no answer, and is starting to think he went ahead with the interrogation without her. Josie's sprawled on her stomach in the living room floor, a plate of Christmas cookies in front of her, blocks spread out in front of her on the carpet._

_ Brennan hears the familiar rumble of the SUV and glances expectantly at the window, surprised to see it pulling to the curb instead of the driveway. _

_ Then the driver's door opens and, instead of Booth emerging, Deputy Director Hacker gets out of the car and begins to walk up the sidewalk to their front door._

_ Instantly, Brennan's chest constricts, a fist wrapping around her heart and squeezing. Everything in her body seems to seize up, and she feels light headed and nauseous and terrified._

_ The doorbell rings, and Josie leaps up to answer it like always, but Brennan stops her, saying in a strangled voice, "Josie, go play in your room."_

_ Her daughter turns, looking bewildered, "But Mommy-"_

_ "Jo. Now."_

_ Josie's footsteps are loud as she runs out. The doorbell again. Brennan's shaking._

_ The doorbell again. Somehow, she makes it to the door, her legs heavy and sluggish._

_ "Where is he?" she demands as soon as she opens the door._

_ Hacker's eyes are pitying. "Dr. Brennan…"_

_ "__**Where**__ is Booth?" her voice trembles._

_ Then he says three words that tell the story, even though they don't._

_ "I'm so sorry."_

_ He keeps talking, about shootings and paramedics and officers, but it's all lost behind the blood pumping in her ears with each sluggish beat of her heart. Brennan braces one hand against the wall, wrapping the other arm around her as if to comfort._

_ "Get out," she cuts him off, her voice low and thick. "Get out of my house."_

_ Hacker looks slightly frightened for her. "Dr. Brennan, is there someone I can call-"_

_ "Just __**go**__." She slams the door and leans against it. She's breathing hard. Shivering. She can't think._

_ Her eyes land on the blocks and the cookies laying in the floor of the living room._

_ Josie. _

_ Brennan makes it to the phone, dialing numbly._

_ "Hey, Sweetie!" Angela answers cheerily. _

_ Her voice still disconcertingly low and uneven, Brennan says flatly, "I need you."_

_ Angela's voice changes instantly, fear threaded through it. "Bren, honey, what-"_

_ "Just come. Please."_

_ "On my way."_

_ Brennan hangs up the phone. Stands perfectly still; she should probably be crying, screaming, something. _

_ She is aware of every slow beat of her heart, every contraction of her lungs. Every sign of life._

_ Angela doesn't knock, just barges in and finds Brennan in kitchen, her expression frightened. "Sweetie, what the hell-"_

_ "I need you to get Jo," Her voice works on autopilot. She breathes; in and out. "Take her to your house."_

_ Angela's hand touches her shoulder, feeling her best friend shaking. "Brennan, you're scaring me."_

_ "Get Josie and take her," She repeats. " Please, Angela, I need you to." Her heart is throbbing in her chest. She exhales. Inhales. "Please."_

_ Josie suddenly appears in the doorway to the kitchen, the uncertainty on her face disappearing as soon as she sees Angela. "Aunt Ange! Me and Mommy made cookies!"_

_ "Sounds great!" Angela replies, a smile that hurts her face._

_ Josie's eyes, large and chocolate like her dad's, slide to Brennan. "When's Daddy getting home."_

_ Abruptly, Brennan turns away, her throat suddenly thickening with tears. _

_ Angela's stomach clenches._

_ "Josie, honey…can you go play in your room for a little bit, please."_

_ She heaves a sigh. "Oooh kay."_

_ Angela touches Brennan's back. Her voice is gentle, "Bren, Sweetie..where is Booth?"_

_ Brennan's eyes land on his Santa hat, lying on the counter and something in her shatters. Tears spill from her eyes, and suddenly she's wracked with sobs, leaning against the refrigerator until Angela's arms go around her. _

~(B*B)~

She tries; she really does. Her dad and brother and all her friends…they're all going out of their way to pull her into conversations, to make her smile. But she's saving all her pretending for Josie, and soon everyone else leaves her alone.

Josie's starting to drift off on Brennan's lap when Hodgins approaches, smiling at Brennan before bending down in front of them. "Hey, Bug, you think you can help me find Santa's sleigh?"

Perking up, Josie nods and sits. "Can Mommy come?"

Grinning, Hodgins meets Brennan's eyes. "Of course she can. And if we see him, what do we have to do?"

Voice earnest, Josie recites, "Get in bed so he can bring me gifts."

"Right."

"C'mon, Mommy."

Finding her forced, clumsy smile, Brennan takes Josie's hand and they follow Jack out onto the porch, grabbing a blanket on the way. Brennan settles onto the steps, wrapping a blanket around her daughter as she settles into her lap. Hodgins sits easily beside them, a step up. "Alright, Bug, help me look."

Brennan feels a small, involuntarily smile quirking her lips as Jack and Josie crane their neck, gazing patiently at the sky. She doesn't point out the obvious flaw in their activity, just threads her fingers absently through Josie's hair.

They're quiet for about two minutes when Josie exclaims, "There! Rudolph's nose!"

Brennan and Jack automatically look up, following Josie's finger. Brennan sees nothing, but Hodgins says, "I see it! Good job, Bug."

"Do you see him Mommy?"

Brennan hesitates, meeting Hodgins eyes, then looking down and see Josie, beaming up at her expectantly. "Yeah, Jo," she answers quietly. "I see him."

Her brown eyes widen, "I gotta go to bed so he can come, Mommy."

"Okay, Jo, go get on your pajamas and say goodnight to everyone. I'll be inside in a few minutes to tell you goodnight."

"Okay." She stands, hugging Hodgins quickly. "Night Uncle Jack."

"Night, Bug. I'll see you in the morning."

Hodgins smiles after her, than meets Brennan's eyes, half-smiling. "You coming in, Dr. B?"

"Not yet," she tries to smile, but it's gone. "Thanks, Jack."

He sets a hand briefly on her shoulder before standing. "No problem."

Brennan pulls the blanket she'd had wrapped around her daughter over her, hugging her legs against the cold. Tears well in her eyes for probably the twentieth time tonight, and for the first time she lets them spill over and course down her cheeks.

Sobs build in her chest, rising in her throat, and Brennan covers her face with her hands, pressing her lips together, trying to fight them back.

_Don't cry, Bones. It's gonna be okay; you gotta take care of our girl._

Brennan knew her husband so well, she can nearly hear his voice, comforting her. Her eyes drifting shut, Brennan pictures him, smiling at her, pretending, illogically, that he's sitting beside her.

_You're doing great, Bones. Josie's happy. Just get through tomorrow and it'll be okay._

His voice is becoming clearer, as the chatter from the house fades.

_It's Christmas, Bones. She loves Christmas._

"I know." The words slip out, unbidden. She does this, sometimes, when she realizes how long it's been since she's spoken to him and is close to falling to pieces. She knows it's irrational, and she isn't delusional enough to believe he can hear her.

But she pretends.

"So did you."

_I know._

"I miss you," Brennan's words are barely a breath. "All the time, but lately…lately it's worse. I see the Christmas tree and I just…can't breathe." She inhales shakily.

_I know, Bones._

"I just want this ridiculous, baseless holiday to be over."

_Don't take it out on Christmas, Bones. Christmas is about good things._

She smiles as more tears roll down her cheeks. It's all in her head, yes, but it is such a Booth thing to say.

Brennan swipes the corner of the blanket under her eyes, wiping the tears and shaking away his image. She swallows until the lump in her throat dissolved.

She breathes.

"Sweetie?"

Twisting around, Brennan sees Angela standing in the doorway, a soft smile on her face. "Josie's waiting for you."

Voice catching, Brennan replies, "Thanks, Ange, I'm coming."

Brennan stands and is suddenly engulfed in a quick hug.

She pulls back. "What's that for?"

"Nothing, Bren."

~(B*B)~

"Jo?"

Josie's lying in her bed in red pajamas with Christmas trees all over them. "Mommy, hurry and tuck me in before Santa gets there."

Brennan sighs inwardly, once again questioning Booth's decision to tell her about the Santa myth. "I think you've got some time, Jo."

"Mommy? Who's spending the night?"

"Grandpa Max is staying the night. So is Aunt Angela and Uncle Jack. Everyone else will be back tomorrow."

"Okay. And Parker and Rebecca and Brent are coming tomorrow, right?"

"After lunch, yes."

"Okay. And Can you make sure no one else eats Santa's cookies?"

"Of course." Brennan leans down, kissing Josie lightly on the forehead. "Goodnight, baby. I love you."

"Love you," Josie repeats. "Merry Christmas."

Brennan forces a smile and doesn't repeat it. She starts to walk out, but Josie's voice stops her. "Mommy?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm really glad you're here for Christmas this year."

Brennan's throat tightens. And as much as she hates it, she lies, "Me, too, Jo. Goodnight." She forces a smile. Closes the door.

_Good job, Bones._

She breathes. And keeps going.

**A/N: **_So, yeah. That ones kind of depressing. But it just kind of came to me and wouldn't let me go. The next one will be fluffy, I promise. Hopefully it will be quick, but I've got finals coming up and still more papers. Starting the 16__th__ though, I'll be home and (hopefully) cranking these out pretty quickly. Thanks guys!_


	4. Baby, Please Come Home

_A/N: Seasons greetings, guys. Sorry this has been a little stalled…like I said, finals are insane. But I'm done Wednesday, and once I get home I'll be writing fairly quickly so I can get in all the ideas I have before Christmas…if you guys motivate me enough, of course, I may update again before Wednesday (shameless bribe). And I'm glad you liked the last one, even if it was on the darker side._

_This one is based on "Christmas (Baby please come home)", a song that was suggested early on by __**rainorshine**__. Then, when I was downloading a bunch of Christmas music, I got the Death Cab for Cutie version of this, and fell in love with it, and this inspiration struck. You can find it on youtube and should definitely give it a listen _

_This is set NEXT Christmas (Season six), and is Booth and Brennan are in an established relationship. Because I'm an optimist, and honestly feel like we're heading for that at a pretty quick pace, comparatively. Anyway. Enjoy._

_Christmas (Baby, please come home)_

_Pretty lights on the tree  
I'm watching them shine  
You should be here with me  
Baby please come home  
Baby please come home_

They're singing deck the halls  
But it's not like Christmas at all  
I remember when you were here  
All the fun we had last year

A fire was roaring in his fireplace, crackling pleasantly across the room from his Christmas tree, probably the biggest he'd ever had. White lights twinkled from the branches, and the bottom half was adorned with ornaments.

Booth shifted one of the blue bins, which were filled with Ziploc bags of ornaments, closer to his stool and stepped up, fixing ornaments on the higher branches that Parker hadn't been able to reach.

Rebecca had picked up his son about half an hour ago, full on hot chocolate and Christmas cookies and in high spirits, as was always the case after their traditional day of decorating.

In spite of the fact that he was now alone, Booth didn't turn off the Christmas music or even remove the Santa hat he'd jokingly perched on his head. He was determined to keep his own high holiday spirits going for the next few days, even though the effects of Bones' (and now Parker's) absence were beginning to wear on him.

Once he finished making the tree look a bit more evenly decorated, he moved around the apartment, doing the more boring parts of the decorating Parker hadn't wanted to help with. He hung a wreath on the door, stockings on the fire place, and draped garland across surfaces.

Then, after packing up the remaining ornaments, he sat on his couch and wrapped gifts.

It was two weeks before Christmas, and he was going all out. Bones would be back in a week, finally. She'd been in Albania on a dig for over three weeks now. It was supposed to be a simple week long authentication, but as far as Booth could understand, conflicts between two different groups of geek scientists (a visiting one from another country who had actually found the skeleton, and a group of Albanians who had brought Brennan out) had delayed the authentication process.

Since then, Brennan had been working with both teams in the area, looking for more, while others argued over who could lay claim to the skeleton. Booth didn't know what was so damn important about some old remains, but apparently it was a lot.

All he knew was that he missed her. And that this was the longest they'd been apart since started dating six months ago.

Still, apparently the conflict was ending and Bones would be back a week before Christmas. Though it still wasn't soon enough for Booth, he was just relieved there was finally an end in sight. And he fully intended to spend every second of the remaining Christmas season with Bones.

Booth smiled to himself as he wrapped a necklace, one of his gifts to Bones, and he thought of last Christmas. She'd come a long way in the four years he'd known her. From refusing to celebrate Christmas that first year to actually _hosting_ Christmas dinner in her apartment.

This year, it would be even better. They'd have Christmas Eve together, and though no plans had been made yet, he was pretty sure they'd get together with the rest of their makeshift family. And this year he'd get to wake up next to her on Christmas morning. After he got Parker (after his lunch with Rebecca and her parents), the three of them were going to Max's place for dinner, along with Russ and Amy and their kids. Appropriate, really, for their first Christmas as a couple, as family.

Although, if he was being honest, she'd been his family long before that.

His phone rang as Booth carefully arranged the gifts under his tree. "Hello?"

"Booth?"

His smile was instantaneous, just the sound of her voice making his heart swell slightly. His understanding of how much he missed her was always heightened, somehow, by talking to her, even when it eased the ache of separation. "Hey, babe," he said, his endearment of choice (that he still couldn't believe he got away with) slipping out by habit. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said, although she sounded slightly distracted. "It's still somewhat hectic here. How was your day with Parker? Did you complete all aspects of your Christmas ritual?"

Booth chuckled softly at that. "_Tradition_, Bones. It's our tradition, not a ritual, that makes it sound like a cult. And, yeah, it was a lot of fun. We missed you, though. Parker kept asking when you're coming home."

"I wish I could have been there," she said sincerely. "I enjoy watching how animated you become when conducting your…_traditions._"

"You think it's pretty hot, huh?" Booth said teasingly, lying the length of the couch and closing his eyes, a silly attempt to focus solely on Bones' voice. "You can't resist a man in a Santa hat with a candy cane, can you?"

He could hear the smile in her voice as Brennan replied, "I must admit it's endearing."

"Way til you see the place, Bones. The tree's huge, the wreaths are hung…it's awesome. The halls are decked with boughs of holly and all that."

Confused, Brennan asked, "I've never known you to decorate with holly branches, Booth."

On another day, this comment would have caused a good natured eye roll, but all it did was emphasize how much he missed Bones and her Bones-esque comments. "Just a joke, Bones. I was quoting the song."

"Oh. Alright." There was a momentary silence, something that usually didn't happen during their phone calls. Still, Booth knew Brennan well enough that, even over phone lines, he could tell she was about to tell him something. So he waited. Finally, she said, "There were some interesting developments at the dig site today."

"Oh, yeah?" He asked, groaning inwardly. Honestly, Bones was lucky he missed her so damn much; it was the only reason he was happy to put himself through the lengthy descriptions of her anthropology stuff. "What were they?"

"More bones were discovered, and they don't seem to belong to the first set of remains."

"Great," he said, when what he meant was _So what?_ "That's a good thing, right?"

"In a way, yes. Although there are some discrepancies between the sets of remains and it's complicated matters slightly. It also means more authentication."

"You'll have a busy week then," he commented. When she didn't reply, a sense of dread beginning to clench his stomach, Booth prompted uneasily, "Bones?"

As if she hadn't stopped speaking, Bones continued, "It also going to require that I stay a little longer than originally planned."

"You're _already_ staying longer than originally planned, Bones," Booth reminded her, sitting up on the couch. He sighed, preparing himself. "How much longer?"

"A week and a half, maybe more."

"_Bones_…" his voce caught, profound disappointment crushing him.

"I'm not happy about it," Brennan continued, sounding genuinely sorry. "I am very much ready to come home, but it's important."

"_Christmas_ is important, Bones. It's our first Christmas together-"

"No, it isn't. We've spent the last five Christmases together, at least partially."

"I _mean_ since we've been _together_ together. And you said you'd be back," Booth didn't exactly love the petulant, whining note that was creeping into his tone, but couldn't help it. The sight of the Christmas tree and the other decorations was making him slightly nauseous. This meant two and a half more weeks without her. _Christmas _without her.

"I know. I didn't foresee this development. Is Christmas really the problem? We can just celebrate another time. Like in March. It's actually more accurate for the celebration of Christ's birth."

"What do you care about accuracy, Bones," he shot back bitterly. "You insist it's a myth anyway, so what the hell do you care?"

There was a long silence, then Brennan asked uncertainly, "Are you angry with me?"

_Fuck it. _"Yeah, Bones, I'm angry with you."

Sounding truly bewildered, Brennan asked immediately, "But why? I t isn't as though I _planned _the discovery of a second skeleton."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to stay," he coaxed, trying to keep some of the anger out of his voice. "No one made you go in the first place you could…let them figure it out."

"I've already committed, Booth. I'm part of this now, I have to see it through." She paused, then added, "I don't _want_ it to last this long, Booth. I'm ready to come home, because I miss you, but…if it's only missing _Christma_s you're worried about, it's easily rectified. We can exchange gifts when I return…I haven't had a chance to buy you anything yet, anyway-"

"I don't _care_ about that Bones I just…I just want you _here."_ He rubbed a hand over his face. He'd never felt further from her. "I, I mean…what am I supposed to _do_ on Christmas Eve, and in the morning before Parker gets here…"

"I'm sure you'll spend time with Angela and the others like we always do. And Max would still allow you and Parker to come-"

"I'm not going to your _father's _house without _you_, Bones," he shot back tersely.

For a moment, neither said anything. Then Brennan tentatively broke the silence, "I have to go, Booth. "

"Okay."

Silence. Then, tentative, "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, although she couldn't see him. "Okay."

"I-" Brennan stopped, frustrated at the chill in his voice. "Bye, Booth."

"Bye." He hung up, and suddenly the only sound was the quiet Christmas music floating from his radio. His grip tight on the phone, Booth aimed a violent kick at the edge of his coffee table, disrupting several of the photo frames arranged on top.

He sat for a few minutes, sulking, then flicked off the lights on the Christmas tree and cut off the music.

His holiday spirit was effectively gone.

Not an hour later, the phone rang again, but it wasn't Brennan. "Hey, G-man. How are you?"

"Hi, Ange. I…I've been better."

Her voice sympathetic, Angela replied, "Bren just told me. I'm sorry, hon, that really sucks."

"Yeah, well…"

"Listen, I'm just calling to invite you to our place on Christmas Eve. Big dinner."

Booth laughed, humorlessly, "That's okay, Ange, I'm not looking for a pity invite."

"Good, because this isn't one. Jack and I were already planning on having everyone over, even before Bren called and practically demanded we make sure you have people to spend Christmas with."

Sighing, Booth hesitantly asked, "She really said that?"

"Yeah. I know she doesn't care about Christmas as much as you do, Booth…even though she's come a long way from hating it. But she cares about you, and she wants to make sure we take care of you." Angela paused, then, when Booth said nothing, added, "And she misses you. A lot."

"I know," he admitted, slightly chagrined. His flat, sullen words to end the conversation had left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I just…I was counting on her to be back for Christmas."

"I know," Angela replied. "So are you in for Christmas Eve?"

~(B*B)~

The next time their separate time zones lined up so they were both awake, Booth called her.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth.

"So am I," Brennan replied. "I really didn't know it would be that important to you. Christmas."

Incredulous, Booth said, "_Really_?"

"Well, obviously, I knew it was important for you to spend Christmas with Parker. I just didn't think spending it with _me_ was important."

Honestly, Brennan had such an ability to break his heart with the simplest statement. "God, Bones, of _course_ it is. Especially now, but it always has been. Christmas is for family, Bones, and you've been my family for a long time. I…" Booth stopped, mentally berating himself. The point of this call wasn't to make her feel guilty. "But I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he swallowed. It was only partially the truth. "I'll…I'll leave the tree up and we can just…we'll have our own Christmas. _Not_ in March, but…when you get back. It'll be fine."

"Thank you, Booth," Brennan said, then, hesitating, adding softly, "I really do miss you. It's been harder than I anticipated, being away."

"I know, Bones," he answered, voice suddenly lower and quiet. Intimate. "I miss you, too. And I love you." He'd felt guilty for not telling her that, the last phone call. Because he always did, partly because it still made his heart clutch to hear her, _Bones_, say it back.

"I love you, too" she told, a note of relief in her voice, intensifying his guilt. "I'll call you."

"You better," he teased. "Get some sleep, Bones."

~(B*B)~

He tried to be alright with it. But Booth couldn't help it; the two weeks leading up to Christmas were the opposite of jolly.

He missed Bones. And on top of it all, Parker was gone, too; apparently, it wasn't the Christmas season if Brent didn't get to go skiing. At least they'd finally coordinated it so the ski trip didn't fall on Christmas day, but it meant he couldn't see Parker at all until Christmas afternoon.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, he was pretty certain the squints weren't thrilled that he was coming to Hodgins and Angela's dinner; he'd been increasingly sulky and temperamental as the days passed, earning him several comparisons to the Grinch and Ebenezer Scrooge.

Still, he showed up, and had dinner with Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Michelle, Ryan (Cam's boyfriend of about four months), Sweets, and Daisy. After dinner, it turned into more of a party, with music and (thanks to Sweets) Christmas carol karaoke.

As the large living room of the house became loud with laughter and voices, Booth removed himself to a corner. He glanced at the clock; it was 11:32, almost officially Christmas. He was feeling sorry for himself, which he hated but couldn't help. As he watched Hodgins and Angela sing their way through "All I Want for Christmas is You", Booth thought about how, if Brennan were here, he could maybe get her up to sing again.

He hadn't seen her in more than a month. That was unacceptable. She was supposed to be flying back on the 30th, and if she ended up pushing it back again, missing New Years, he was pretty sure he was going to lose it.

If it wasn't for Parker, he would have flown to Albania himself for Christmas, would have spent it in a _tent_ by the dig site if necessary. But that wasn't an option, so he was stuck calling her in the afternoon, when she would be getting off and heading back to her room for the night.

He barely heard the doorbell ring over his friends' singing, but Angela spoke into the microphone quickly between verses, "Booth can you get that?" He obeyed.

Then, within moments, he was opening the door and face to face with Brennan.

He gaped at her, mouth hanging open cartoonishly. There were bags at her feet and snowflakes in her hair. She looked exhausted. But she was there. And she was smiling. "Hi."

Booth was vaguely aware of the music cutting off behind him, but all he could do was stare, disbelieving.

"I came home early," Brennan explained unnecessarily.

"But…Bones…_how_?" His voice was hoarse.

Her eyes, those blue, depthless eyes he never got enough of, met his, sparkling, all traces of exhaustion gone. "It was important to you. So I worked through a few nights so I would finish in time."

Apparently, Christmas and Bones made him sentimental, because at this, tears sprang unexpectedly to his eyes and his throat narrowed. Brennan obviously noticed, but she misinterpreted, because her eyes widened slightly, almost panicked, eyebrows drawing together. "Booth, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy."

Then he was pulling her to him, crushing her against his chest, wondering how he'd gone so long without her in his arms. Booth buried his face in her hair, waiting for the decidedly unmanly tears in his eyes to disappear.

"I missed you so much," he murmured, close to her ear so the others (who were beaming at them from the background) couldn't hear him.

"Me, too." Brennan lifted her head from his chest and looked up him. Touching his thumb to her cheek, caressing gently, Booth leaned in and caught her lips in his.

They kissed languidly, savoring it, as though getting reacquainted with the feeling (as though either could ever have forgotten), until Hodgins pointedly cleared his throat.

Booth pulled back and smiled down at her, still ignoring the others. "I love you."

"I love you,too."

"Alright, guys, time to get a room," Angela said loudly.

"Yeah," Hodgins added. "There are kids in the room."

"I'm sixteen," Michelle protested indignantly.

Hodgins smirked, "I was talking about Sweets."

They all laughed and Sweets flushed, then, attempting to deflect, said, "I think the original point was the, uh, get a room comment."

Booth grinned, threading his fingers through Bones', fully intending to head back to his apartment and welcome his partner back in the correct manner. "We can do that. Merry Christmas, everyone."

"Not so fast, G-man," Angela interjected, coming over. "I missed her, too." She shoved him unceremoniously to the side as she pulled her best friend into a hug. Over Angela's shoulder, though, Brennan's eyes found his again, and they both smiled; Booth couldn't seem to stop.

They stayed for the next few minutes, as the others caught up with Brennan and asked about her dig. Soon, though, they said goodnight and Merry Christmas and made their way out, hand in hand, Booth helping carry her bags.

When they got outside, Booth shifted the bags awkwardly and wrapped an arm around, Brennan leaning her head against his shoulder. It was snowing lightly, and Booth couldn't believe how quickly things had gone from horrible to perfect.

They got to Booth's car and Brennan set her bags on the ground, waiting for him to open the trunk. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her again, gently. Then, "Guess what?"

Brennan's lips curved up into a smiling. "What?"

"It's after midnight. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she whispered. Then, frowning, added, "You'll have to wait a few days for a gift. I looked around the airport gift shops but nothing seemed appropriate."

He laughed, pulling her to him in another hug. It was, he decided, far too cheesy to tell him she was the best gift he could have asked for. Definitely too cheesy; she would have laughed. Instead, compromising, he told her, "That's okay. I don't want anything else, Bones. Just this."

She nodded against his chest, then admitted, her voice muffled against his coat, "Me, too." She tilted her head to look at him. "Merry Christmas, Booth."

_A/N: So, yeah. Nothing too unpredictable there, but I think it's sweet. And I love the song. So I hope you enjoyed this short, simple fluffy piece, especially after the emotional 'trauma' of last chapter. Like I said, I've got a few more days of finals, but there's a possibility of another one tomorrow night or Tuesday if you guys leave the love for this one (end of shameless bribe)_

_Also, just a little preview on some of what's to come (no order decided, it all depends on how the muse feels at the time): Booth introduces Brennan to Christmas movies, an Angela and Brennan origin story set at Christmas in college, Booth and Parker teach Brennan to ski, and a look at the lost Christmas of Season Two set (thanks to episodic numbers of the usual Christmas episodes) after the Gravedigger trauma._

_So stay tuned._


	5. Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow

_A/N: __Hey guys! I know it's been insanely long since my last oneshot, especially considering I got done with school on Wednesday and had promised more frequent updates. But I got home to find our internet was screwing up, and I've had issues connecting my lap top until late last night. This is the first chance I've had to upload. _

_I'll probably put up one more tomorrow and, if everything goes as plans, another one either late tomorrow night or at some point on Christmas day. Hope you enjoy, and hope everyone's having a great holiday._

_This one takes place in the current season, just before Goop in the Girl. It's a little less Christmas based, and more winter based…partially in honor of the fact that my town in NC actually got snow before January for the first time in years. The vague topic (Booth and Parker teach Brennan to ski) was a request by __**Rosie-not-Rose**__, and it was really fun to write. Thanks for the idea, hope you like it! _

Let It Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

Booth sighed very deliberately, looking pointedly at his watch for probably the tenth time that morning. Unfortunately, his less than subtle reactions were lost on most of the squint squad, who were milling around the Jeffersonian parking lot as it if they had all the time in the world.

Only Bones seemed to notice his rapidly mounting annoyance; she approached him, leaning next to him against his car, observing, "You seem irritable."

"We were supposed to be on the road twenty minutes ago," he grumbled. "I was supposed to pick Parker up fifteen minutes ago..."

For a moment, Brennan looked confused by the phrase. After a beat, she said, "You're hoping for more efficiency in packing?"

He waved a hand in the general direction of the other squints. "I think they're done loading the cars. I don't know what the hell the hold up is."

Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Michelle, Sweets, and Daisy were circled by the trunk of Cam's Expedition, trying to work out the seemingly complex issue of who was riding where.

Booth's original intention had merely been to invite Bones to come skiing with him and Parker the weekend before Christmas. He hadn't been sure that she would want to come, but she'd seemed inordinately pleased and had agreed right away…before proceeding to explain to him that she'd never been before but felt certain that, considering her steep learning curve, she'd master it fairly quickly.

Within a day, the plan sort of snowballed (pun _definitely_ intended).

Hodgins overheard them talking about it, and offered the use of his cabin in West Virginia, which was apparently right on the slopes of an excellent ski lodge. Somehow, half an hour after Booth had gratefully accepted, Hodgins had decided skiing would be a nice weekend getaway, and Cam and Angela had agreed. By the end of the day, Sweets had found out, as well, and suddenly the team (along with their various sons, adopted daughters and annoying girlfriends) were going on a bonding ski trip for a weekend.

After another few minutes of watching the others stare at the vehicles with concentrated expression, Booth rolled his eyes and raised his voice, "Look, we have room for one more over here, everyone else can fit in Cam's car. Decide in thirty seconds or Bones and I are leaving all of you."

Brennan glanced at him, smiling slightly.

The others glanced at each other and, predictably, Daisy broke the silence. "Well, I want to ride with my Lancealot." Sweets smiled, pleased, while everyone else tried not to catch each other's eye.

"I'm driving," Cam said, waving her keys.

There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at each other; Booth broke it, clapping his hands together. "Time's up. C'mon Bones."

He headed around to the driver's side, Brennan's gaze following him, unsure if his threat was legitimate.

They never found out; Angela held up a hand in mock surrender and said cheerfully, "I'll go. Assuming, Booth, that you'll be playing Christmas music and having us all sing?"

Still looking slightly irritable, Booth continued walking as he answered, "I doubt I'll be feeling too jolly after Rebecca yells at me for being half an hour late."

As Cam led the others to her car, Angela and Brennan got in Booth's, Angela rolling her eyes. "Don't be such a Grinch."

Throwing her best friend a puzzled look, Brennan commented, "I don't know what that means."

~(B*B)~

Once they'd stopped to pick up Parker, with no comment from Rebecca on the late arrival, Booth perked up immensely, and the road trip turned out to be pretty fun.

Booth obligingly turned on Christmas music, and for awhile Parker and Angela were singing alone, from the backseat, but after awhile Booth relaxed and joined in.

From her usual position in the passenger seat, Brennan listened contentedly, a soft, hidden smile on her face.

After awhile, though, Parker leaned up and stuck his head between the front seats. "Bones, why aren't you singing?"

"Sit back in your seat, buddy," Booth admonished, meeting his son's eyes in the rearview mirror.

Parker obeyed, but repeated, "Bones? Don't you like singing Christmas songs?"

Booth met her eyes briefly before she answered uncomfortably, "I, uh, never really thought about it, Parker."

"You should sing with us."

Slightly uncomfortable, Brennan faced forward, not meeting Booth or Parker's eyes. "I'm not a very good singer."

Booth made a scoffing sound at the same time that Angela, from the backseat, insisted, "We all know that's not true, Bren."

"Yeah, Bones, what happened to being better than Cyndi Lauper?"

Brennan flinched slightly, suddenly hearing what used to be her favorite song, cut off by a gunshot.

She was quiet for long enough that Booth took his eyes off the road to look at her. "Bones?"

Her eyes shifted to meet his, lips set in a firm line. "That was an extremely narcissistic assertion. I should never have said that, and I shouldn't allowed myself to be coerced into performing. It was foolish."

Booth was taken about by the ferocity of these comments; before he could formulate a response, Angela said quickly, "But Christmas carols would be okay, Sweetie. Come on, it's fun."

Begrudgingly, Brennan began to sing along to "Silver Bells" with the others, quiet at first, very aware of Booth's close attention. Parker, too, leaned forward, hoping to listen.

When they'd been through the song, Parker sat back, a satisfied smile on his face. "I think you sing really pretty, Bones."

Brennan smiled, surprised. Before she could thank him, Booth turned to look her, a small smile on his face and said, "He's right. You really do."

Flushing, she replied quietly, "Thanks." Then, in a normal volume, "Thank you, Parker."

In the rearview mirror, Angela met Booth's eyes and smiled knowingly.

~(B*B)~

"This feels strange," Angela commented as she rifled through her suitcase for skiing clothes.

"What?" Brennan asked distractedly. "Your suitcase?"

"No…it feels strange not going to the master bedroom. We spent a lot of weekends here when Jack and I were dating."

"Oh." Brennan waited, uncertain if she was going to continue reminiscing. When she didn't, Brennan commented, "It's a nice place."

"Oh, yeah. Hardly a rustic cabin in the wilderness."

"_Bones, Bones, Bones, Bones!_" Parker came running into the room, wearing a puffy blue coat, gloves, and a navy toboggan pulled almost over his eyes. As he tilted his head to look at her, Brennan absently reached to adjust the hat so Parker could see. "Me and Daddy are going out skiing. Come on!"

Brennan smiled down at him "Alright, Parker, I'll be just a minute."

"Do you _really_ not know how to ski, Bones?"

"Well, it's true I've never done it before," Brennan answered. "But I've done some research, and I'm certain I'll be able to master it fairly quickly."

Angela ducked her head to hide her silent laughter, while Parker just continued to beam up at Brennan. "Well, Daddy and I can teach you. I'm really awesome, and he is, too."

"Alright," Brennan agreed, smiling. "I'll be out soon."

"Okay!" Parker said happily, running out of the room calling, "Daddy, Bones is coming!!!"

Moving more quickly, Brennan began pulling on layers, unaware of Angela watching her with a grin. After a moment, when Brennan moved to the edge of her bed to pull on an extra pair of socks, Angela commented, "Parker really likes you, huh?"

"It does seem like it," she admitted, surprise threaded through her tone. "I'm not very adept with children, but I find myself fairly comfortable with Parker."

"Maybe he reminds you of his father," Angela suggested innocently.

"There _are_ many similarities between Booth and Parker, as should be expected, but I don't see the connection."

Smirking, Angela mocked, "I'm sure you don't."

"Bo-_ones_." Parker reappeared in the doorway, his tone impatient and stretching Bones name out.

"Ready," Brennan assured him, heading out the room and asking Angela, "You guys coming?"

"Soon," Angela replied. "We'll see you out there."

"Alright."

Parker grabbed Brennan's gloved hand and pulled her through the halls until they were bursting onto the front porch, where Booth was standing with three sets of skis, poles, and ski boots.

He grinned as soon as he saw Brennan, who was still tugging her grey toboggan over her hair with one hand. "Hey, Bones. You ready for this?"

"Yes," she answered resolutely.

He passed her a pair of thick ski boots. "You're using my old skis, but Rebecca let us borrow the boots.

She sat on the steps of the porch to pull on the boots while Booth helped Parker into his. "Thank you, but that wasn't necessary, Booth. I could have rented skis."

"Nah, those lines are always ridiculous and it takes forever. This'll get us out on the slopes faster, right pal?" He grinned down at his son.

"Right!" Standing, Parker bounded awkwardly into the yard, scooping up his skis and poles, tucking them under his arm.

Snapping the strap into place, Brennan, too, stood up and looked expectantly at Booth. "We going?"

Rubbing his gloved hands together, Booth nodded. "Yep. Let's hit the bunny slope!"

Falling into step alongside the Booth boys, Brennan stated predictably, "I don't know what that means."

Giggling, Parker clarified, "That's the easy place where the babies ski."

"_Parker_," Booth started to admonish, watching with amusement as Brennan frowned in concern.

"I doubt I require starting on any sort of…_bunny_ slope. I consulted the map of the various hills, and there was one marked beginner that I think would be satisfactory for the first few attempts."

Booth grinned. "Bones, you know, sometimes it can take some practice to pick it up. No shame in using the bunny slope to master you know…not falling."

Expression earnest, Brennan assured him, "I've done some research online about basic techniques…it's all simple physics, really."

Booth let out a bark of laughter. "You can't learn to ski from the internet, Bones."

Assuring her, Parker put in, "_I _learned how on the bunny slope first Bones."

"I'm sure it's a very effective teaching method, but I'd prefer to skip that step and begin on the main beginner's slope. I have an exceptionally-"

"-high learning curve," Booth finished, grinning. "You've said. We can do it your way." He reached into his pocket and handed her a long sticker, passing one to Parker as well.

Brennan glanced at it blankly. "What is this?"

"Your lift pass. Put it over your jacket zipper," he explained, stopping briefly to help Parker.

"The chair lift is _so_ fun, Bones," Parker told her. "It goes really high up."

Soon, they were standing at the base of most of the slopes, and Parker and Booth had snapped their boots into their skis without problems. Brennan's left boot had snapped in easily enough, but every time she stepped down with the right the ski slid forward.

Gritting her teeth in frustration, trying to ignore the way Booth was trying not to laugh at her, Brennan dug a ski pole into the snow, gripping it for balance, and defiantly slammed the heel of her ski boot into place.

It didn't click.

Taking pity on her, but still chuckling, Booth came closer. "Here…" He gently guided her wrist so she had no choice but to grip his shoulder. Their eyes met, and she sighed audibly at the mirth dancing in Booth's. "You really gotta hammer it in there."

Leaning her weight on Booth, Brennan stomped again, and this time the boot clicked into place.

"Atta girl," Booth cheered, grinning. "The hard part is truly over."

Arching an eyebrow and attempting a dignified tone, Brennan said, "You're being facetious, aren't you?"

"Ah, you really _are _a genius."

Brennan frowned, "Was that being disputed?"

Before Booth could retort, Parker interrupted their back and forth. "Can we _go_."

Booth nodded, lifting his legs and turning his skis in the direction of the lift line. "Yeah, bud, let's get in line. C'mon, Bones, you can ride behind us."

Nervously casting her gaze on the lift, she repeated, "_Behind_ you?"

Booth was already in line next to Parker, and he cast a glance over his shoulder and waved her forward. "Yeah, it's a two seat lift. You'll be fine."

"Alright…" Brennan craned her head, trying to see to the front of her line as people got on. "How do I…"

"Just use your polls to slide over, and turn so you're facing away from the chair and sit down."

"It's really easy," Parker assured her.

The line was moving quickly, and as they got to the front, Booth threw her a grin. "See ya at the top Bones."

The employee standing at the front of the line waved her forward as Booth and Parker turned in the correct direction as a seat whizzed up behind them. They sat down simultaneously, Booth's arm unnecessarily on Parker's; Booth immediately pulled down the bar as Parker waved at her.

Brennan dug her poles in, shakily sliding forward. When she got under the shed, she cast a nervous glance at her shoulder at the rapidly approaching chair, turning one ski in the proper direction. Before she could turn the other, the chair collided with the back of her legs, and she sat instantly, her left ski scraping the ground as she did.

Booth swiveled around to look at her. "Bones, pull down the bar."

She rolled her eyes, feeling much more at ease now that she was firmly seated. "Booth, I-"

"Bones, the _bar_."

Placating him, Brennan reached up and pulled the metal safety bar down. She gazed below her, watching the slope. Some skiers were expertly zipping down, since many of the more difficult slopes eventually merged into the wide beginner one. There were small clusters of one or two skiers or boarders just sitting on the side. Her eyes zeroed in on one apparently out of control skier, going much too fast, forcing other skiers out of their way…and then falling, sending powder flying.

She raised her head again, glancing forward. They were approaching the first stop. "Booth!"

He turned, "What's wrong?"

She could feel herself flushing. "When we get to the top, what…what's the procedure for getting off the lift?"

Even from the distance between them she could see his smirk. "Didn't cover that in your extensive online research?"

"_Booth."_

He laughed. "Lift the pole when you see the station, and then when you get there it's just a ramp. Stand up and ski down it, but go off to the side at the bottom or the people behind you will run into you."

She nodded mutely; they were approaching the ramp. In front of her, she watched Booth lift the bar and say something to Parker she couldn't hear; mimicking him, she raised her bar and shifted her ski poles. Soon, Booth and Parker both stood and skied expertly down.

Brennan's lift approached seconds later, and she managed to stand, the lift knocking into the back of her thighs as she slid shakily down the ramp. At the bottom, though, worried about picking up speed, she turned her right ski slightly to stop.

She was still upright, completely steady, and pleased with herself. Then she was aware of Booth's voice, calling her name. She turned, confused, just in time to see his wrist seize her arm and drag her to the side seconds before two teenagers, exiting the ramp, zipped by where she'd been standing.

"Thanks."

Parker was moving away from them, and he called back, "Daddy can I go?"

"Just a sec, bud," Booth replied, turning to Brennan and saying, "Do you want some pointers Bones? Or did your internet research prepare you better for the actual skiing part of the experience?"

Scowling at him, Brennan lifted her chin and replied smoothly, "It did prepare me adequately for the actual sport itself, although a few instructions from you wouldn't be amiss, seeing as you are familiar with this particular slope and may be aware of variables that do not affect the general sport as a whole."

"You got it, Bones," Booth said in as serious of a tone as he could manage.

Impatient, Parker called, "Dad-_dy."_

"One sec, pal. I gotta give Bones some tips so she won't fall, alright?"

Before Brennan could protest, Parker's eyes lit up, and he slid toward them. "Ooh, tell her about snow plowing."

"I don't know what that means."

Booth and Parker grinned at each other, and then Booth answered, "Move your skis in a triangle position, it keeps you from going too fast." He demonstrated with his own.

Brennan studied it carefully, mimicking. "You're suggesting creating traction."

"Uh, sure," Booth said. "Kinda shift your weight from one leg to the other if it helps. You don't have to snow plow the whole time, just if you feel like you're losing control. And if you really can't stop yourself, fall."

Brennan's eyebrows drew together, her expression perplexed. "That seems counterproductive."

"Trust me, it's better to make yourself fall then lose control completely and crash into something."

"If you insist."

Parker tilted his head up at her. "You ready Bones?"

She smiled, fabricating confidence. "Sure."

The three of them moved from the sidelines to the top of the slope, Brennan moving slightly slower. She could hear Parker say excitedly, "Can we race, Daddy?"

Casting a glance back at her, Booth replied, "Let's use this one for a warm up, bud. Next time we'll race."

The boy agreed easily as Brennan caught up to them, sliding her skis up alongside Booth. He grinned at her. "Ready for this?"

She nodded, glancing down the slope, which was steeper than she'd anticipated. "Ready."

"Let's go!"

Booth and Parker eased forward and began to ski off, both veering off slightly to widen the gap between them. Taking a steadying breath, Brennan pushed off behind them.

Immediately, she was going too fast, straight ahead, with no method of turning. She went careening past Booth and Parker, between them.

"Ski plow, Bones!" Booth called out helpfully. "Use the traction or whatever!"

The snow was icier than she'd thought it would be, slick with very little powder. Panicking slighter, Brennan attempted to angle her skis in the position Booth had demonstrated, but as she widened the gap between the back of her skis, the front of them crossed, making an X.

She jerked her right leg instantly, overcorrecting as her skis flew apart, sliding unsteadily against the ice. Two snowboarders in front of her steered quickly out of the way.

The last, seemingly ridiculous bit of Booth's advice occurred to her. _If you really can't stop yourself, fall._

She didn't have time to question it. Wincing in anticipation, Brennan upended her skis, her body collapsing on one side.

One ski scraped against the icy slope while the other popped off and skidded a few feet the side. Shreds of ice covered one side of her face.

Before she could pull herself up, Brennan heard a scraping next to her, and looked up to see Booth, expertly stopped two feet away and peering down at her, his face etched with equal parts concern and amusement.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she answered huffily. "Your traction suggestion was highly ineffective-" She stopped talking as Booth gently tucked his hand under the crook of her elbow and pulled her up. With one boot out of her ski, it was simple to stand as Booth sidestepped carefully to retrieve her dropped poles and missing skis.

Brennan's eyes found Parker, who had managed to stop ten feet away and was carefully sidestepping his way over. "You okay, Bones?"

She smiled, swiping a wet glove over her cheek. "I'm fine, Parker."

"You were going really, _really_ fast."

"I know I was…" Brennan's eyes met Booth, who, now that he knew she was fine, wasn't trying to disguise his amusement. He set the errant ski by her foot and motioned for Brennan to hold his arm as she stepped into it.

"So," he teased in a falsely conversational tone. "That must've been a great site you found."

"You're being very insensitive and immature, Booth," Brennan informed him.

"I know," he admitted readily, grinning. "Want a few more lessons now? Before we keep going?"

"Only if these lessons are better than the last one."

For the next minute or so, Booth ran through basic skills ("You know, Bones, like _stopping_ or _turning_?") and tips, while Parker sighed impatiently next to them.

When they started again, Brennan was slightly more controlled, moving from side to side down the slope to keep from picking up too much speed. She didn't have any trouble until they got to the bottom, when her attempt at stopping got her skis crossed (again) and sent her collapsing in an undignified heap.

Again, Booth was there in seconds, helping her up and assuring she was uninjured before allowing himself to tease her and offer her corrective advice.

They met Angela and Hodgins at the ski lift, and, after Hodgins cockily explained his plans to go to the black diamond slopes, Angela got in line with Brennan, behind Booth and Parker again.

For the next four runs, the routine was the same. Brennan generally fell once, either on the slope or at the bottom, prompting Booth's instant arrival at her side, even if he was in the middle of a "heated competition" with Parker.

They saw the others, all of whom moved past the beginners slope, but Booth and Parker stayed on it with her. Even after she began successfully completely the run without falling, Booth laughed at her for literally zigzagging her way down the slope, moving from one edge to another, not trusting herself to ski in a straight line.

After spending several hours repeating the same run, Brennan turned to Booth and informed him confidently, "I want to ski the black diamond run."

Booth's eyebrows shot up. "Just skip right by the intermediate, huh?"

"I studied the resort map extensively. The black diamond portion of this run is fairly short."

"And steep, Bones," he reminded her.

Bones arched an eyebrow challengingly. "I've mastered the rudimentary skills, and I'm certain I can apply them just as easily on a more difficult slope."

Smirking, Booth added, "You mean as long as you can still do the 'zig zag' method?" The quip earned him a backhanded smack on the shoulder, which sent Parker into a fit of giggles. "Bones, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll be fine, Booth. I can't improve if we keep repeating the same routine."

"Parker can't go on that run, anyway."

The boy's head snapped up and he protested indignantly, "Can so!"

"Sorry, pal, you know the rules. No black diamond runs til you move up a ski size." He nudged Parker's tiny skis with his own.

"Fine," Parker huffed.

Booth glanced back at this partner, a triumphant grin on his face. "See?"

Brennan was squinting up at the slope. "Sweets and Daisy should reach us momentarily. I'm sure they can take Parker briefly."

"Cool," Parker agreed.

Sure enough, within a minute, Sweets (who was dressed in a laughable amount of layers) was stopping next to them, sending powder all over them. "Sorry," he said sheepishly

Ignoring the apology, Brennan said immediately, "Sweets, would you take Parker on a run with you while Booth and I ski the black diamond slope?"

Sweets let out a low whistle. "You're going to the black diamond after two hours? Impressive."

Booth snorted, correcting him, "You may want to hold off on deciding that."

Sweets bit back a smile, then smiled down at Parker, "But yeah, I'll take Parker. Daisy went in to get a different height of poles-" he rolled his eyes. "-so I'll ride up with him. We'll wait at the bottom when we get done."

Booth nodded. "Thanks, Sweets." Turning to Parker, Booth said, "Alright, bub, can you go with Sweets?"

"Sure," Parker replied agreeably, cutting his eyes at the psychologist. "Will he race me?"

Clapping a hand on Sweets' shoulder, Booth answered his son, "Sure he will. Think you can beat him?"

"Yeah!"

Booth smirked. "Me, too." He turned to his partner. "Let's do this."

This time, Booth and Brennan got on the chairlift after Sweets and Parker, and waved at them when they got off on the first stop.

Booth cast a sidelong glance at his partner; she had a familiar competitive glint in her eyes, and it made him smile. Bumping his shoulder against hers, Booth asked, "So are we going to be racing or is it just a 'try not to fall' sort of thing?"

"Who said it had to be a competition?"

He laughed, "That _take no prisoners_ look in your eye did."

Brennan smiled and opened her mouth to retort when the ski lift halted, something that happened nearly every other ride up it.

Sighing impatiently, Brennan craned her neck to the side to try to see how far they were from the top; she could just see the station in the distance. Next to her, Booth smiled gleefully and looked down at the skiers zipping below them. "Bones, Bones, watch!"

He clapped his skis together, sending the snow that had gathered there falling on the people below.

"Impressive," Brennan said dryly.

"Nice use of sarcasm, Bones," Booth praised her genuinely. He thumped his skis together again, though no snow remained. Squinting into the sun, Booth ran his eyes over the expansive ski resort. "It's pretty from up here. All the snow."

"Yes, it is. There are more slopes than I realized."

"We'll hit more tomorrow," Booth assured her. "We'll have all day." He grinned. "Besides, by that time you'll be a pro at the rate you're going."

"I know you're being facetious."

"You got me."

Glancing at him, his signature charm smile firmly in place, Brennan couldn't help but smile. After a pause, she said, "Thanks for inviting me this weekend, Booth."

He turned, meeting her eyes and smiling back, his eyes softening around the edges like they always did during these moments. "I'm glad you came."

The lift screeched slightly, and then began to move up again.

Within a minute, they were lifting the bar and skiing down the ramp, easing toward the top of the slope. Brennan pressed her ski into the snow below her. It was even icier than the lower slopes, hard and slick. The angle was steep.

"Ready?" Booth asked.

She nodded wordlessly. Instead of pushing off, though, Booth peered at her, then asked again, quietly, "Sure?"

"Yes."

They pushed off together. For a moment, they were side by side, but then Brennan (who was determinedly trying to avoid her zigzagging strategy) picked up speed and surged ahead, concurrently losing control.

Brennan was going so quickly her skis weren't sinking into the snow, but rather skating over the top; she knew this would make stopping difficult.

Still gaining speed at an alarming rate, Brennan attempted to turn and ski diagonally, a smaller scale version of her zig zag move, but her momentum was such that the slight movement sent her skis flying. She hurtled forward, losing her grip on both poles before she landed hard, her cheek scraping the ice painfully as she slid several feet before settling.

"Bones!" She heard Booth's voice from her left as he whipped by her.

Booth managed the stop about ten feet down the slope from her, tilting his skis and turning to the side to gaze up at her. The concern on his face was palpable, and free of any mirth; this particular fall must've looked pretty bad.

"Bones, are you okay?"

She winced, swiping the back of her glove over her stinging cheek. "Fine," she assured him quickly, sitting up. The area she'd landed in was slippery and steep; Brennan was worried about standing up without her poles to balance. Her eyes scanning the slope, she noticed one had landed in between Booth and her.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Yes, Booth, I'm certain just…could you hand me my pole?"

He stared. "You want me to come _up_ the slope?"

"Just enough to grab the pole and throw it to me." Brennan's eyes met his. "Please?"

Booth sighed inwardly. It wasn't as though he would have said no. "Fine, Bones. But I want you to watch, because _this_ is what a skilled skier can do."

Even as she rolled her eyes and protested ("You won't actually be skiing, it will be more of _stepping_"), Booth began meticulously and slowly sidestepping up the slope toward her, waiting until each ski was planted before meeting it with the other.

When he was close to the fallen pole, Booth reached his own pole out, trying to hook the end into the strap.

"Loop it through," Brennan commanded needlessly from her place on the ground. "Use the straps."

Voice strained from the effort, Booth retorted, "You obviously weren't."

"It isn't safe, it could be a puncture weapon."

"It's three feet long, Bones, what's it going to be able to puncture, your ankle?" He sighed, still out of reach. "Hold on…" Carefully, he lifted his right ski and tilted it slightly. As he lifted his left to match it, however, his skis crossed in the back. Sliding one out from under the other, he overcorrected and, losing control, began to slide down the slope.

Backwards.

"Booth!"

"Damn it," he muttered, panicked. He was going too fast to simply swivel around. Booth craned his neck, trying to see if other skiers were in front of him.

"Fall!" Brennan called, parroting his own advice back to him.

However, Booth had no conscious choice in the matter as his legs flew out from under him, with a sickening pop and sudden shooting pain in his ankle.

From above him, Brennan immediately snapped off her skis and, in the heavy boots, sped down the slope toward Booth as quickly as she could, leaving her equipment abandoned on the slope.

Brennan dropped on her knees beside Booth, her hands instantly moving from his shoulders down his arms checking for injuries. "Are you okay?"

Booth sucked in a breath. "My ankle, Bones, I broke my ankle."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "You're certain?"

He nodded. "It's happened before."

"Which foot?"

"Left…"

Brennan moved slightly, very gently touching the tip of his ski boot, stilling it. "We need to take your boot off, your foot could start swelling." Brennan's throat constricted. "I'm sorry, Booth, it's my fault…"

"Hey…" He reached out, catching her gloved hand in his. "It happens, Bones." It's not your fault, it was just an accident. Okay?" She nodded, and Booth reached out with his other hand and touched her cheek gently. "You're bleeding, Bones…"

"Oh," she swiped her cheek hurriedly against her shoulder. "It scraped the ice, it's nothing…" Returning her attention to his foot, she said, "I'm going to loosen your boot, alright?"

She carefully loosened the straps as much as possible, stretching it as far as it would go. Inhaling slowly, Brennan told him, "I have to slide it off now…I'm sorry…"

But the boot slid off fairly easily, and Booth relaxed slightly, trusting Bones as she propped his foot carefully on her thigh, out of the snow, and ran her hands gently over his socks.

"It's broken," she confirmed. "But you knew that…alright, I noticed that they bring injured skiers down on stretchers that resemble sleds…we should alert one-"

"No way," Booth cut her off. "Parker'll be at the bottom by now I can't let him see me getting pulled down on one of those. And besides, I'm not an invalid I can…I can make it if you help me."

She didn't argue. "Okay. We're almost at the point where this slope merges with the intermediate one, it should be easier to walk down that one…you need to keep your weight off your foot, you can lean on me…"

"Leave the skis," he told her. "When we get to the bottom we'll tell the attendant to have someone send them down."

Honestly, Brennan hadn't even remembered the skis, but she only said, "Okay." She stood, bracing herself, and helped Booth stand, all his weight on one foot.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded. "Thanks Bones."

Brennan wrapped an arm securely around Booth's waist; Booth put an arm around his shoulder, and Brennan hooked her other hand over his wrist by her shoulder.

As they began to move, slow and tedious, Booth leaned more weight on Brennan, who took care not to reveal any outward sign of discomfort.

The going was slow. The steep, slick hill was hard enough to walk down wearing the heavy boots without the added injury. Brennan was nervously asking him if he was alright every thirty seconds or so.

"I'm fine, Bones, I promise."

After nearly half an hour, they reached the bottom, where Sweets, Daisy, and Parker were waiting, along with Angela, Hodgins, Cam and Michelle.

Angela saw them first. "Oh, thank God! We thought you'd fallen off the lift or something." Then, it registered that Booth was leaning on Brennan. "What happened?"

Parker's eyes went wide. "Daddy, are you hurt?"

"Just hurt my foot a little bit, pal."

Brennan looked at Cam. "He needs to go to the Emergency Room."

"If you can get him through the lodge I'll bring my car around."

"Thanks, Cam," Booth replied, grimacing slightly as Cam headed off toward the cabin. "Bones, can you stay here with Parker?"

"No, I'm going with you," she replied instantly.

His eyes locked with hers. "You don't have to, Bones."

She lifted her chin, defiant. "I'm aware of that, but I'm still going with you."

He half-smiled. "Thanks, Bones."

Angela stepped forward slightly. "Parker can ski with me, Booth," she offered, smiling at the boy, who was starting to look unsettled.

"Thanks, Ange." He looked down at his son. "You gonna be okay, bud?"

"Why do you have to go to hospital?"

"No big deal, Parks," Booth assured him hastily. "I have to get a cast. Like the one you had on your arm last year, remember?"

Parker relaxed instantly. "Can I sign it?"

"Of course. Until then, you have fun skiing."

Brennan once again put an arm around Booth's waist, prompting immediate smirks from the others. Flushing, she quickly said, "We should walk through the lodge…Cam'll be bringing the car."

Booth smiled down at her, no longer laced with discomfort or pain. "Thanks, Bones." He looked at Parker. "Be good for Angela, alright, kiddo?" Parker nodded, and Booth wrapped an arm around his partner. "Lead the way, Bones."

~(B*B)~

When they came back, several hours later, Booth had a blue cast up to his knee, crutches, had made the realization that he was stuck off the slopes for the rest of the weekend and, as a consequence of his complaining, was being apologized to every minute or so.

As they walked up the sidewalk to the porch, Booth on his crutches, he turned to Cam and said in an undertone, "Can you give us a sec?"

She smiled knowingly, cutting her eyes at Brennan, whose guilt was etched in her expression. "Sure."

When the front door closed, Booth smiled easily down at Brennan. "Bones. This is important, okay? It's the last time I'm going to say it. This wasn't your fault."

She sighed, "I'm the one who insisted on going down a slope beyond my abilities, and I'm the one who requested your help with the pole. It follows, then, that I'm the one who caused you to break your ankle and miss out on the rest of the weekend skiing with Parker."

Booth slung an arm around Brennan's shoulder playfully. "Oh, c'mon, in a few days even _you_ will see how funny the image of me skiing backwards down the slope is."

"Maybe," Brennan said, sounding unconvinced.

"It was an accident," he told her gently. "It's no one's fault. Got it?"

Brennan bit back her logical argument on the chain of events. "Alright."

"Let's go in."

As soon as they opened the door, Parker came running. "Daddy! Lemme see!"

They spent the next few minutes letting everyone sign his cast, a tradition Brennan participated in but didn't understand. Then Booth settled between Brennan and Parker on the large leather sofa and soon had them all, even Brennan, laughing at his recollection.

~(B*B)~

"Everyone can just _go_. For the hundredth time, I'll be fine. Go ski, have fun."

The group in front of him shrugged and finally stopped starting all sentences with "Are you _sure_ you don't mind…"

Satisfied with his friends finally giving in, Booth looked down at Parker, straightening his son's toboggan. "Be good for Angela and Jack, alright, bud? And have lots of fun for me."

"I will."

Angela started to say something, but then looked behind Booth and smiled. "Sweetie, you sure you aren't coming?"

Brennan shook her head. She'd stuck close to Booth all morning, never even affecting a pretense of going out. "I don't feel much like skiing, thanks."

Angela smiled knowingly. "That's so cute, Bren."

Brow furrowing, Brennan asked, "Why is that cute?"

Everyone suppressed laughs, then waved goodbye and started out the door. When they had all filed out, Booth turned to Brennan. "You sure you don't want to go out, Bones? I'm really fine…I've got Hodgins' flat screen, surround sound and probably three thousand channels."

"I know," she replied quickly. "I just…wasn't overly impressed with skiing as an activity."

He couldn't help but smirk. "But you were such a natural at it."

Brennan squinted at him. "Facetious again?"

"What do you think?"

"I'm not certain. I do have a good deal of natural athletic ability, yet you took great pleasure in making fun of my skiing skills yesterday, so I honestly think an argument could be made for you being genuine or sarcastic."

He laughed. "Sarcastic, Bones. That was definitely sarcastic."

~(B*B)~

Booth ended up having a fantastic day.

He and Bones stayed in the large living room, a fire crackling, as he taught her to play BS and Speed and she taught him Blitz. When the cards got boring, Brennan found stacks of games in a closet and they worked their way through those. Around lunchtime, Brennan went into the kitchen and made grilled cheeses, Booth hobbling in after her to sit at the bar and keep her company.

After lunch, they went through the DVD collection and found _It's a Wonderful Life_. When Booth commented that it was his favorite Christmas movie, and Brennan replied by saying she'd never seen it, Booth had a slight overreaction and freaked out, insisting that they watch it.

For the first little while, he got nothing but unwelcome commentary.

"Those constellations are not at all accurate. And the implication that they are actually angels speaking? Absolutely ludicrous."

"I don't understand how this is a Christmas film."

"A man like that shouldn't be a licensed pharmacist."

However, by the time Jimmy Stewart offered to lasso the moon for Donna Reed, Brennan was quiet, although Booth had expected her to interject that such a task was impossible.

She was quiet for nearly an hour, as Booth moved closer so they could share the bowl of popcorn she'd made. Her only comment, right around the time the movie moved back to "present day" was to reiterate in a quiet voice that she didn't understand how it was a Christmas film.

"Just wait. The present day story is set on Christmas Eve. It's coming."

After that she was quiet; at one point, Brennan unconsciously tugged a corner of the blanket Booth had pulled from the back of the couch over her thighs. Smiling to himself like a high school boy, Booth slid even closer and wordlessly moved half the blanket over her.

By the end of the movie, Bones was leaning against him. He glanced down at her, a soft smile on his face, eyes sparkling. "Is that a tear, Bones?"

She blinked rapidly and hard. "No."

"Did you like it?"

She nodded fervently. "Yes, I did, actually. It was a very interesting take on chaos theory, though applied to the life of a human-"

"Okay, okay, I got it. You liked it." Booth reached for the remote. "I bet they're playing more Christmas movies on one of these channels we have…"

Brennan was quiet, and she never moved away from Booth as he flipped through the program guide before his eyes lit up. "Elf! We gotta watch this!"

"Alright," she agreed absently. There wasn't much she would deny him right now; she just wanted him to enjoy himself and not remember that he was missing his chance to ski with his son.

After about half an hour, though, she couldn't keep quiet. "This seems more like a movie to Parker. It's absolutely ridiculous."

Booth felt the heat rising to his face. "Well…I did first see it with Parker, but come on. It's funny. And I like that girl who can sing."

At this, Brennan scowled, leaning away to look up at him. "You would."

Holding up a hand in defense, Booth counter, "_What_? I like her. She actually reminds me of you."

Rolling her eyes, Brennan shot back, "We look nothing alike. She's _blonde_."

Booth bit back a laugh. "My mistake." Heaving a theatrical sigh, Booth said, "Fine, I'll change it. We'll find something else."

As he flipped over to _A Christmas Story_, Brennan hesitantly ventured, "Booth? I'm sorry, again. About your ankle."

Muting the television, Booth leveled a stern gaze on her. "What did I say about that?"

"I know. I'm just…I'm just sorry. You didn't get to ski, and you aren't spending time with Parker. It would have been a better experience if you hadn't invited me-"

Feeling bold, Booth put a finger over her lips to stop her apologies. "I'll get to spend time with Parker. I will. And I don't mind not skiing. This was just as good. Better, even." He smiled. "I'm glad you came, Bones. It's Christmas time…Christmas is a time to be with the people you love."

They both froze, the word hanging between them, the second time he'd said it. Brennan looked slightly shocked, her eyes locking on his.

Booth flushed. "You know…your friends and family and stuff."

She repeated quietly, "Friends and family and stuff?"

"Yeah?"

She nodded, apparently contemplating. "And partners?"

Booth smiled. "Yeah, Bones. And partners. Partners who are also family and friends and…stuff."

She smiled widely. "Okay."

He couldn't help but grin back. "Okay."

She leaned back against him and Booth unmated the TV and settled back.

Both of them were wondering about the 'stuff'.

Around seven, when the group finally straggled into the house, pink cheeked and tired, they sound Booth and Brennan asleep on the couch, huddled under a blanket, Brennan's head on Booth's shoulder, the television playing in front of them.

Angela sighed in contentment, Parker giggled, and the others just exchanged knowing smiles.

"What do we do?" Cam stage whispered.

Hodgins replied in his own whisper, "There's a nice steak house a few miles down the road. We could ditch these layers and go."

Everyone nodded. Angela put a hand on Parker's back. "Let's go eat, pal."

"What about Daddy and Bones?"

Angela laughed. "We'll let them sleep."

Within ten minutes, they all left the house again, leaving the sleeping partners completely unaware that they'd ever come in.


End file.
